I Need You
by Miss Kris
Summary: A new girl moves to Alexandria ... and things are bound to happen ... (Final Chapter Up - COMPLETED - Please R&R)
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I'm sad to say that i do not own Remember the Titans, the characters, the directors, or anything associated to the movie. The wonderful world of Disney owns all that good stuff. I do own Isabelle Brooke, her family, and that Clive Henry thug...but that's about all. I unfortunately have NO relations to Ryan Hurst either...but Christmas really isn't that far away now that i think about it....YUMMY! :)   
  
Chapter 1  
  
*First Day of School at T.C. Williams High School: September 4, 1971*   
  
"What on earth?!" Isabelle exclaimed, as she slowly and carefully parked her car. This must be because of the school integrating and all, she thought. What's the big deal anyhow? She locked her car and cautiously proceeded towards the new high school, ignoring the ignorant racist comments and threats that surrounded her. She smiled to herself and saw two boys about her age, of different race, shake hands and greet each other in friendly manners. The light skinned boy's girlfriend standing next to him, had declined to shake her boyfriend's friend's hand. Isabelle shook her head, as flashbulbs went off violently everywhere, and she hurried inside. It was gorgeous outside; the sun was strong and bright, the sky was clear with white clouds dotting the southern sky, the leaves were vibrantly colored with fall's familiar tones, and the air smelled fresh and balmy. She would have liked to enjoy it a little bit longer and meet people outside, but how could she with a modern day civil war raging in front of her face?  
Once she stepped into the unfamiliar hallways, the shouting and tension filled air proved that she couldn't escape the issue of integrating. People around her were giving *her* looks; and she felt the awkwardness envelop her whole. Either she was being glared at for her skin color or because she was new and foreign to Virginia.  
She sighed and went to search for her locker. If she were back home, the first day of school would've been fun. She would be surrounded by her friends, walking with ease through the familiar gray and red hallways of her old high school in California. She would be waving to pretty much everyone in sight and enjoying the comforting feeling of her school. If only, she thought, with frustration as she continued to search for her locker, roaming around alone and confused.   
Isabelle saw it coming—head on; like a freight train. The loud, angry fights, slamming doors, insults, and the car backing out of the garage in a frenzy, squealing into the night. They'd fight about money, how her father was a workaholic. She'd lay in bed crying, wishing it would all end; the fighting. It did. Her parents divorced, and her mother moved them to her childhood town; Alexandria, Virginia. Quiet, modest, little Alexandria. A far cry from the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles and the way of life Isabelle had grown to adapt to.  
She quickly rid of her thoughts and found her locker, silently thanking God. Just as she opened it, the first bell rang and she noticed the empty hallways. She groaned and banged her head on her locker. Great. Not only was she the "new girl" but now she was going to have to walk into a filled classroom with everyone staring at her. If only some poor soul would take pity on her! Swallowing hard, she looked at her schedule and began her lonesome search. She had reached the end of the hallway, when a friendly voice called out to her.  
"Excuse me!"  
Isabelle spun around, her dark curls flying behind her. A young man about her age was rapidly approaching her, a big grin on his warm face. He was sharply dressed and poised like a gentleman, with cheerful brown eyes to match his complexion.  
"Hello, I'm Jerry Harris. You look lost; would you like a hand?"   
Isabelle quickly shifted her books to her left arm and held her right hand out for him to shake it. At first, he looked surprised, but quickly smiled even wider and took her hand. "I'm Isabelle Brooke. I just moved here to Virginia and I'm completely and utterly lost." She showed him her schedule and he laughed out loud.  
"Well, what a lucky coincidence. I have that exact same class myself. It's on the other side of the building though." He started leading her in the opposite direction that she was going in. "You just moved here? From where?"  
"California."   
"Get out of here. One of my team mates just moved here from California, too." He smiled down at the petite girl with long dark hair and curls at the end, that bounced with her every step. She had smooth, peaches and cream skin, and soft brown eyes framed with long, dark lashes.   
"Team mates?" she echoed.  
"I'm quarterback for the T.C. Williams Titans," he said proudly. "Say, there's a party tomorrow for one of our players; it's his birthday. It's nothing big; just the football team, and some of their dates." His tone darkened a little. "If they're able to see past race and all." He looked down at her uncertain face as he continued to lead her into the stairwell. "Oh, it won't be a date or anything. It's just, you looked awfully lonely, and I thought you'd like to meet some people."  
Isabelle smiled up at him. "I'd love to go, Jerry."  
"Call me Rev. It's a nickname," he winked.  
She laughed and breathed a sigh of relief. This guy was a savior. "I dunno, Rev. From the looks of it, everyone here is really hung up on skin color. I think I'd be the only date there!"  
"Oh, you won't," he assured. "Not everyone here's narrow minded, contrary to popular belief. Besides," he said, laughter dancing in his eyes, "if all else fails, Sheryl will be there." He took her a little further down the hallway and they stopped in front of their class room.  
"So, where's the party?" she asked, smiling.  
"Coach Yoast's house. I'll pick you up; if you don't mind."  
"Not at all."  
  
"And where will this party be?" Evelyn Brooke asked at dinner that night. She and her daughter sat across from each other, with a big bowl of salad and a long loaf of French bread between them.   
"It's this birthday thing that the high school's football team is throwing. It's at their coach's house. Coach Yoast, I think." She broke off a piece of the loaf and covered it in butter, then looked up at her stunned mother. "What's wrong?"  
"Yoast?" she repeated. Isabelle nodded slowly, and leaned forward. Something was awfully fishy around here. "All right, Isabelle, you may go. But, bear in mind; it's a school night." She paused thoughtfully. "And please leave his home phone number and address with me?" She paused again. "In case of emergencies."  



	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I'm sad to say that i do not own Remember the Titans, the characters, the directors, or anything associated to the movie. The wonderful world of Disney owns all that good stuff. I do own Isabelle Brooke, her family, and that Clive Henry thug...but that's about all. I unfortunately have NO relations to Ryan Hurst either...but Christmas really isn't that far away now that i think about it....YUMMY! :)   
  
Chapter 2  
  
"Emma's not coming?" Petey Jones asked his friend. He looked sad and disappointed, and Petey didn't like seeing his team captain so depressed. "Cheer up, Bertier. Just go out and bring another girl. Ain't no girl in Alexandria that'd turn you down."  
Gerry Bertier shot the goofy Petey a withering glance. Petey shook his head; he knew he was right. Gerry Bertier: captain of the football team, an All-American, complete with All-American good looks. Short, soft light brown hair, bright brown eyes and a handsome face that most girls fall to the floor for. His every expression was swoon worthy, according to the female population back at the old high school: Hammond High. He was built like a football player—no doubt—with a towering figure, at least a head taller than most of the players, and a muscular frame that let a person know when Gerry was in the room. And despite his aggressiveness out on the field; he was the sweetest guy in the world. Who wouldn't want someone like Gerry?  
"Hey, I wouldn't turn you down," Ronnie "Sunshine" Bass teased, clamping a hand on Petey's shoulder. He winked slyly at Gerry, who only returned his tease with another withering glance.  
"Look, if you're still all hung up on Emma about that brush off, it's forgotten," Julius Campbell said consolingly to Gerry.   
"No, it's not," Gerry said tightly. How could his own girlfriend be so cruel to someone she didn't even know? Judge him solely on his appearance? He felt a tug at his gut and instinctively, he swung his gaze to his left and stopped his singing friend, Blue Stanton, dead in his tracks. "You start singing to me, ain't nobody gonna be able to save your behind." Blue laughed good-naturedly and backed off.   
"Hey, if that's what you want, Bertier. I was just wonderin' where Rev was."  
"What are you boys crowding around the fireplace for?" They looked up to see their head coach; Herman Boone, smile at them. He saw Gerry with his elbow propped up on the mantel and his head on his hand. He knowingly nodded silently and started to leave. I know when to yell at them; when they fumble or miss a block. But I know never to badger a broken heart, he thought.  
Gerry looked down at the mantel, lost in his thoughts about that morning's events. No one's date showed up; practically no one but the football team has come to accept the integration and embrace it. But, he was suddenly interrupted from his thoughts when Julius shook him.  
"Will you look at that, Superman?" he murmured. "Rev came here. . . with a date!"  
"Rub it in, why don't you?" Gerry muttered. He sighed and let his southern hospitality take over and so he stood up straight, prepared to greet Rev's date. He looked up from the floor and froze.   
"Rev told me that there'd be other girls here. . ." she said, a small smile playing on her pink lips. They laughed when the girl said that she was introduced to Sheryl Yoast, the assistant coach's nine year old football-loving daughter. "I'm Isabelle Brooke." She shook hands with everyone and when she came upon Gerry she locked eyes with him.  
"I'm Gerry Bertier," he said, his intense gaze still not leaving her. Julius, Rev, Sunshine, Petey, and Blue all shot each other looks of confusion and suspicion, as Gerry and Isabelle continued eye contact.  
"SO," Sunshine said, clearing his throat. "You don't seem to have a Virginian accent, Miss Isabelle."  
She reluctantly looked away from Gerry. "You're right; I don't. I just moved here from California."  
His jaw dropped open. "Me too!" They started talking about their old homes, as Gerry continued to watch her. Julius leaned in towards Petey. "Will you check out Bertier? It's like Emma doesn't even exist."  
"Oh, calm down, Julius," Petey said, "so he feels an attraction. It's not like he's gonna go sleep with her or anything."  
  
Gerry waited. He watched as Blue, Rev, and Petey left to go join Alan Bosley in the middle of the room to sing and dance for their friends. Julius excused himself to use the washroom, as Sunshine and Isabelle continued talking about California. Gerry still leaned against the mantel, listening to them.  
"Oh, I've tried surfing, sure," Isabelle laughed, "but, I'm not too great at it."  
"It's awesome; getting thrown and shoved down by a force so strong that it's unbelievable; like no other experience." Sunshine paused and smiled at Gerry. "Well, with the exception of getting tackled by Bertier."  
"I can see that," Isabelle joked, looking up, up at the team captain. Gerry smiled weakly at her. "So, Gerry, do you play offense or defense?"  
"Defense," he answered, standing up straight and smiling down at her. "And what do you play; offense or defense?"  
This Gerry Bertier's cute, she thought before answering with a wink, "Offense; I like scoring."  
He looked amused at her answer as he chuckled lightly. "Well, I'd say that you're winning by at least fifty points."  
Sunshine stared at Gerry; but this time it was for a different reason: shock. He slowly backed away until he was almost across the room from them, when Julius came up behind him. Sunshine pointed the two of them out by the fireplace.  
"He's flirting with her," he exclaimed. "And he's really bad at it, too," he continued, thinking of Gerry's last line.  
"Jealous?" Julius teased. "No, just playing. Look, Bertier's really tight with Emma and he loves her and wouldn't do anything to hurt her."  
They both looked up to find their captain place his hand at Isabelle's back and lead her out the door by the fireplace. Sunshine looked at Julius with a look of uncertainty.  
"Oh, yeah?"  
  
"Yeah," Isabelle agreed, as Gerry led her to Yoast's backyard. "It is nicer out here to talk." She looked out onto the setting sun, amidst a vibrant sky of pinks, yellows, and oranges; a backdrop to the country-like Alexandria. It was balmy outside and the air was clean and refreshing. Gerry led her to a big oak tree and sat down at the trunk and looked up to see her following his suit.  
"So, why'd you move here to Alexandria? Why Alexandria of all places?" he asked, looking at her intently. He watched her cast her eyes down and pick up a piece of grass. She twiddled it around her fingers, hesitating at first on what to say.  
"My parents divorced," she started. "My mom used to live out here. She never really liked California, so she moved us out here."  
"I'm sorry," he apologized. Great move, he chided himself. You really know how to get 'em, don't you? Bring up their most painful memories and make them sad—great job!  
"It's all right," she assured. "I needed a change." He looked at her quizzically. Should I tell him? Isabelle thought. I hardly know him. Then, she looked into his eyes. Immediately, her heart skipped a beat. An unfamiliar feeling swept through her. She hardly knew Gerry, but it was like there was something between them. Fate? Isabelle thought. Love at first sight? She rolled her eyes to herself. Get a grip, Brooke. But, she looked back up at him and everything felt right. His warm brown eyes seemed to take away all the pain, hurt, and betrayal that has been suffocating her for the past few months.   
"You don't have to tell me," he said gently. "It's all right."  
"No. Well, right when my parents were waging a war, my friends just turned on me. Especially my best friend; stole my boyfriend right from under my nose. They started ignoring me and spreading rumors about me—I guess it had to do with some wild idea they got about me doing something or someone or bad mouthing one of them—I don't know. They never could handle confrontation like that." She sighed. "Yeah, I needed to leave—probably even more than my mom."  
Gerry sat there; speechless. What was he supposed to say now? He cleared his throat. "Well, I'm glad you came here, then."   
She smiled up at him and then suddenly apologized. "I've been talking all about me the whole time. What about you? I heard you're the football captain, you're an All-American. . ."  
He shrugged. "Yeah. I like it. But, sometimes, being looked up at all the time isn't so nice. Having all that responsibility. But, I guess I can't say anything really tragic happened in my life except. . . well, except for my father's death."  
Isabelle's hand rested on his arm and he felt tingles shoot up and down his body. He looked down into her face. "I'm sorry," she said softly.   
They were silent after that. They sat next to each other for a little bit, enjoying each other's presence. Gerry's eyes wandered the land until his gaze fell on an old, beat up football. Before he could go retrieve it, Isabelle was on her feet jogging towards it. She picked it up and tossed it in the air for her to catch.  
"So, you like football, huh?"   
He smiled and stood up. "Sorta."  
"Well, come on, captain; show me what you got." She grinned mischievously. "I've got a pretty good offense. I know moves you probably don't even know exist."  
Gerry was shocked at first at what she said, then he laughed out loud. "You wanna play football? In a skirt?"  
She looked down at her knee length corduroy skirt and slowly backed away from Gerry. "Sure. Why, does it bother you?"  
He looked up at the sky as if in thought. Then, he looked at her with an impish grin and he started picking up the pace towards her. "Not really," he answered, before breaking out into a full run.   
"Eeeee!" Isabelle started running in surprise when she saw the towering figure barreling at her. Whoa, he's fast, she thought, starting to feel herself slow down. But, the thought of a guy twice her size tackling her down made her run ahead a little faster  
But, Gerry cut her short and was suddenly in front of her as he grabbed her waist and tackled her down. Instead of expecting to wince with pain, Isabelle found herself laughing on the ground with Gerry next to her, peering down at her and laughing.  
"You're fast," he exclaimed, trying to catch his breath. "But not fast enough. I must say Miss Brooke, I'm very disappointed in your offense."  
They locked eyes once more and she smiled a little. I wouldn't say so, she thought, because I think I might be scoring a touchdown soon. . . Gerry leaned in, his face nearing hers at a slow and steady pace. All thoughts of Emma had left his mind by now as he felt her rapid breath on his face; it was minty fresh. He started to close his eyes and his lips just barely brushed hers when  
"Bertier!"  
Gerry groaned and they both sat up to see who was yelling. It was Julius, standing with a flabbergasted Petey and Alan.  
"What is it?" Gerry yelled impatiently, jumping up and helping Isabelle stand.  
"Ray needs you to move your car; he's leaving now."  
Isabelle looked down at her watch as she and Gerry headed inside. "Oh, I need to head home myself." She looked up at him and smiled mysteriously. "I'll see you around."  
  
"Man, Gerry. . . I would've never thought," Alan said, shaking his head, as he and a few of their friends stood outside Gerry's car, Yoast's front lawn. Gerry's window was rolled down and he was starting to back out for his friend to leave.  
"Yeah, going around Emma's back like that?" Sunshine added in disbelief.  
Gerry ignored them and sighed with confusion as he pulled out onto the street. He loved Emma; he has for a long time. They have an incredible history together. But, what she did to Julius that morning still burned him. He thought of Emma and still felt a warm love for her. Then, he thought of Isabelle. The connection between them was unmistakable and undeniable. It was powerful and unfamiliar to him. She made him feel like everything was good and well, and around her, he felt different. Good different. She likes his friends, and they obviously like her.  
"Look," Julius said to Gerry, as Ray drove off and Gerry pulled back in , "what you may feel for Isabelle. . . it could be love, but it could be just an attraction. You don't know that. Do you really want to give up everything you've worked for with Emma just to *see* what could happen with Isabelle?"  
  
As Isabelle waited for Rev to drop her off back home, she and Sheryl had staked out a spot on the stairs where Isabelle was braiding her long, curly hair. Sheryl Yoast was going on and on about that afternoon's practice, wildly gesticulating and her tone picking up speed with excitement.   
She's so adorable, Isabelle thought.   
"Well, don't you look like a pretty lady?" her father smiled, approaching Sheryl and Isabelle.   
She smiled. "Why can't you braid like this, Daddy?"  
"Well, because I was too busy throwin' around footballs," he winked. He then looked up at Isabelle and they introduced themselves. "Welcome to Alexandria."  
"Thank you," she said.   
"What do you think o' my boys?" he asked lightly.  
"Oh, they're friendly. Especially your captain." She paused and remembered her mother's behavior last night at he dinner table. "Mr. Yoast, I was wondering if you used to know a woman named Evelyn James?"  
Coach Yoast squinted at her, as Sheryl suddenly ran off. "Yes, I do. We used to date. Always thought I'd marry her, but. . . we went our separate ways. Last I heard she moved out west. Why, do you know her?"  
"Yes, she's my mother."   



	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I'm sad to say that i do not own Remember the Titans, the characters, the directors, or anything associated to the movie. The wonderful world of Disney owns all that good stuff. I do own Isabelle Brooke, her family, and that Clive Henry thug...but that's about all. I unfortunately have NO relations to Ryan Hurst either...but Christmas really isn't that far away now that i think about it....YUMMY! :)   
  
Chapter 3  
  
"What happened to *you*?" Julius asked the next morning in front of the high school. The campus was less crowded, with not so many protesters, parents, and reporters swarming about them. The weather was same as before, but somehow; it was more enjoyable. But, not to Gerry. He couldn't enjoy the weather after what he was about to do.  
"Didn't get any sleep last night. Stayed up thinking about Emma and Isabelle," he answered, rubbing the back of his neck. "And I made a decision."  
Julius nodded. "I hope you made the right one. It was tough, I know. Emma and Isabelle both seem really great." He looked up ahead and saw Isabelle getting out of her car as she waved to Sunshine and Rev near the entrance of the school. "Well, there she is. I gotta go talk to some of the guys about practice later on. Good luck." With an encouraging pat on the back, Julius took off.  
Well, here goes, Gerry thought. Don't blow it. He cleared his throat nervously and called Isabelle's attention. She turned around and smiled, making her way towards him. They greeted each other and he swallowed hard. This was going to be tough. In all the hours of trying to decide on what to do, what to say to Isabelle hadn't entered his mind. He glanced up and saw Julius, Rev, and Sunshine sneaking peaks at the two of them. Having an audience makes this even easier, he bitterly thought to himself.  
"Good morning, Gerry," she greeted cheerfully.   
"Uh, yeah," Gerry responded anxiously. His eyes darted around campus and he caught sight of her concerned expression. "Listen, there's something that I, uh, need to tell you. . . and it ain't easy for me." She looked up with a gentle gaze, encouraging him to go on.   
Might as well just get it out in the open, he thought, his heart pounding faster and faster. He felt a sense of dread coming over him, and for a minute, he contemplated on not going through with it. But, he thought of Emma and couldn't bare to betray her. "Isabelle, I. . . I have a girlfriend. And I'm sorry if I led you on."  
He looked down at her blank face, as she processed this new information in her mind. Her mouth dropped open slightly and she looked up at him, her eyes narrowed and her shoulders tensed. Her eyes started to glisten over and he reached out to her when she was snapped out of her daze, her eyes suddenly blazing. "You hope you didn't lead me on too much?!" she hissed. "You almost kissed me! And your flirting?! What kind of "not leading on" was that?!" She closed her eyes and pursed her lips before staring back at him. "Why didn't you tell me? Why did you let me make a fool of myself? Why did you let me think that. . . that we. . . we—forget it."  
"I'm so sorry, Isabelle," he said, his heart truly breaking. "I. . .I don't know what happened!"  
"Well, I do," she spat. "A girl opens up to a guy, thinking that he could maybe be someone special, and then the guy just tells her that it was an act. I really thought you were special, Gerry. I guess I was wrong." She shook her head and started backing away, before turning around and speeding off.  
"Isabelle, wait!" he exclaimed, starting to run after her. He watched her fly into the school, past his friends, and before Gerry to walk through the doors himself, Julius and Rev stopped him.  
"I'm going to go see how she is," Sunshine volunteered, entering the school.  
"Didn't roll over too well, huh?" Julius sympathized. "You did the right thing though; telling her about Emma."  
"You heard us?" Gerry guessed, collapsing onto the steps and slouching against the railing.   
"Yeah, loud and clear," Rev admonished, "what were you thinking?!"  
Gerry jumped up in his defense. "I wasn't, okay? I couldn't think straight last night."  
"She's new to Alexandria, and *that alone* is making her sensitive and vulnerable. You just made it a whole lot better, didn't you?"  
  
"He just. . . he just led me on!" Isabelle exclaimed, violently arranging her books. "He could've told me that he has a girlfriend; it wouldn't have killed him!" Sunshine patted her back as she stuck her head into her locker and mumbled, "I really like him, Sunny." The tall, blond quarterback smiled ruefully at his nickname's nickname. "I mean, I really felt a connection. Maybe I should fight for it. . .?" She peaked out of her metal chamber with a look of hope on her pretty face and saw Sunshine shake his head.   
"Gerry and Emma are a special couple; they're like the IT couple here. Especially back at their old school. They go way back and they really love each other. Some even say they should get married."  
"Married?!" Isabelle cried out, slamming her locker shut. "That's a little out there, don't you think?"  
Sunshine shrugged and put a consoling arm around her depressed figure. "Virginia's quite different from California, isn't?" He felt her lean her head on him and heard a defeated sigh escape from her. "Some advice from one surfer to another? Don't get involved with Gerry like that. Just don't."  
"Why," Isabelle started, her humor slowly returning to her, "does someone else like me?"  
He laughed and they continued down the hallway, "Plenty of someone's like you, believe me. But, besides that, getting in the way of Gerry and Emma could really burn a lot of bridges around here. I'd stick to being just friends with him." He smiled. "And with our first game right around the corner, his position as captain's really gonna kick in with lots of stress. The last thing he needs is a distraction like you." Feeling better, Isabelle playfully punched his arm.  
"Thanks, Sunshine."  
  
"Want me to save you a seat, Bertier?" Louie Lastik called out during lunch. He saw Gerry and Emma side by side, and Gerry shook his head grinning down at Emma.  
"We're gonna spend a little more time together, all right?" He led the blond beauty outside to the grassy, shaded area outside the cafeteria to where they were going to have lunch together. Their relationship needed a lot of repairing. They both agreed to try and understand one another's views to work through their problem together. They picked a spot under a tree and were settling in, when he looked up to find Isabelle sitting alone on a bench, reading a thick textbook, and a feeling of guilt washed over him. Maybe I can introduce her to Emma? Gerry thought. But, he saw Blue and Julius passing Isabelle. They stopped and sat on either side of her, startling her. They laughed a little when Julius picked up her books and they led her to a patch of grass not far from Gerry and Emma, where most of the football team sat and ate.   
"Look at the new girl," Emma said to him. "She's sittin' with them for lunch? Wow." A look of disdain hugged her delicate features and Gerry felt a churn in his stomach. "So, Gerry," she continued on cheerfully. "Let's work this out. . ."  
As she went on and on about their relationship and it's value and history, he kept an eye on his teammates. Isabelle seemed to be having a great time with his friends; laughing and horsing around with them. She seemed to fit in perfectly with them, and even got in on their football conversations. Sure, she asked lots of questions, but his friends seemed amused and fond of her to be patient enough to explain everything to her.  
"Gerry?! Gerry, aren't you listening to me?!" she exclaimed. He looked startled and smiled at her and kissed her cheek.  
"I'm sorry. I was; keep going."  
"Ok, so anyway, I was thinking, how this could be. . ."  
  
"Excuse me?" Isabelle demanded, jumping up from her spot on the ground. She glared up at the boy in front of her. Like everyone else, he was taller than she was and could flatten within a minute. But, that didn't stop her from defending her new friends. "I suggest you was your mouth with some strong soap and get a new attitude. Something a little less arrogant and ignorant."  
"Oh, yeah, hippie girl?" he snarled back. "I can say whatever I want to say. And I suggest to go elsewhere with your little hippie boyfriend," he jerked a thumb at Sunshine, "and mind your own business."  
"Take your own advice," she snapped.   
"Uh, Isabelle," Petey said nervously, standing up behind her with Julius, Sunshine, Rev, Louie, and Blue. Alan hurriedly stuffed a potato chip in his mouth before standing up with the rest of them. "Maybe you should just—"  
"No," she exclaimed. She turned back to the big thug and his friends. "I won't back down! This guy shouldn't even talk; he's completely dense and impolite. He goes around insulting people without even introducing himself."  
Alan stepped forward and whispered in his ear, "His name is Clive."  
"Clive," she repeated. She looked him up and down. "Think I can take him?" Suddenly, she heard all the guys burst into laughter. She reeled around and glared at them.   
"Sure, honey, I'd love to take you—somewhere secluded," Clive said suggestively.  
Isabelle's eyes widened and she lunged for him if it wasn't for Petey, quick as he is, who held her back.   
"Feisty," Clive mused. "I'll see you later." With that, he turned around and walked away.  
Isabelle wrenched free and turned to face all the guys. "Why didn't you say anything to that jerk when he said those thing about you?!"  
Julius put an arm around her and smiled. "We *were* but somehow, you just got there first." She laughed and turned pink, burying her face in her hands. "But, we appreciate your efforts."  
  
"Isabelle," Gerry said breathlessly, jogging towards her locker. He had his backpack and equipment slung over his shoulder as he leaned against the locker next to hers. "What happened at lunch? I saw you and Clive about to go at it."  
She pointedly ignored him, as she picked out her school books and notebooks that she would be needing that night. She briefly glanced up at Gerry and then went back to her locker. She's giving me the silent treatment, he thought. He groaned and poked his head right in front of her locker.   
"Isabelle," he pleaded, "please talk to me!"  
"No. I might lead you on to thinking that we should be friends." She threw a math book in, barely missing Gerry's head. He instinctively yanked his head back and shook his head in amazement. This girl was unlike any of the quiet, reserved girls he knew in Alexandria. What exactly was in the water in California?  
He looked down at her, his feelings very injured from her frosty words. But, when she looked back up again, he saw that the hurt in her eyes ran deeper than his own. "I'm sorry, Isabelle, I really am. I want to be friends!"  
She shut her locker and glared at him. He saw little tears starting to collect in her eyes and she silently pushed past him.   
"Isabelle!" he exclaimed, starting to run after her. He chased after her until she reached her car. "Please don't do this to me!"  
He looked down and saw her face lighten up a little and she nodded to something behind him. It was Emma.  
"Gerry?" she asked, glancing at Isabelle with a suspicious and curious look.   
"Emma, this is Isabelle Brooke. Isabelle, this is Emma Hoyt," Gerry introduced. He felt the thickly tensioned air push down on his body as the two girls shook hands.  
"Well, I gotta run." She looked at Gerry, and then smiled at Emma. "I have a date."  
"Really?" Emma asked, silently breathing a sigh of relief. Now that she was sure that this new girl wasn't after her boyfriend. . . "With who?"  
"Yeah, with who?" Gerry asked, his eyebrows furrowing. He leaned forward and saw Isabelle smile with fake sweetness.  
"Oh, I'm sure you know him. He's on the football team." She watched as his jaw dropped and continued, "Now, run along or you'll be late for practice."   
  
"She was probably kidding," Alan advised Gerry in the locker room. He had come into the room with a tight expression; it looked as if he was out for blood and if he didn't get an answer, whoever he was blocking would be seriously injured.   
"Really?" he asked, his face skeptical. But, Sunshine came over and sat next to him, picking off some dirt on his helmet.  
"She wasn't kidding; she has a date with Ray tonight." He smiled at Gerry's stunned face. "But don't worry," he winked, "he's got nothing compared to you."  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I'm sad to say that i do not own Remember the Titans, the characters, the directors, or anything associated to the movie. The wonderful world of Disney owns all that good stuff. I do own Isabelle Brooke, her family, and that Clive Henry thug...but that's about all. I unfortunately have NO relations to Ryan Hurst either...but Christmas really isn't that far away now that i think about it....YUMMY! :)   
  
Chapter 4  
  
"Look, everyone; it's the hippie chick from California," Clive called out the next morning. He pointed to Isabelle, who was at her locker, as everyone snickered. She rolled her eyes and caught sight of Gerry out of the corner of her eye, standing down the hall. He looked a little disturbed and was slowly walking over to them. Oh no, he's going to try to save this damsel in distress, she thought sourly.  
"Peace," Isabelle snapped at Clive. The arrogant teenager swaggered over to her and leaned against the locker next to hers.  
"Where's your hippie boyfriend? Shouldn't you two be smoking some marijuana or something? You look like you're having withdrawal."  
She narrowed her eyes and closed her locker. "I wouldn't be looking like this if you hadn't taken my make up from me this morning."  
Everyone in the halls laughed, and Clive felt his ears burning with embarrassment. Shown up; by a girl! "You probably went to Woodstock—"  
"And what's wrong with that?" She could see Gerry edging closer and closer. Why does he have to look so *good* in those pants? Isabelle thought irritably, rubbing her damp palms on her skirt.   
"Look, hippies just don't belong here in Alexandria," Clive yelled out of nowhere. He wasn't having a good morning, and having this new girl take his harassment in stride wasn't cutting it for him.   
"You think I'm a hippie?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Just you wait and see."  
  
"She's still not talking to you?" Rev asked Gerry, yet again the next morning. He nodded. Isabelle was distracting him more than he thought she would be doing, and with their first game the next day, that wasn't good for him. He needed to be focused and he needed to reserve his energy for the field. The team had something to prove tomorrow night and he intended to help lead the Titans to victory. Coach Boone and Coach Yoast had individually taken him aside to ask if he was all right and then gave him lectures on his duties as captain, his responsibilities and obligations, and how his focal point wasn't where it needed to be. Rev sighed and shook his head as Sunshine and Petey joined them by Gerry's locker. "You need to resolve this thing with her soon or bad things might happen."  
"Yeah, I know," Gerry said, scratching his head. He looked up and saw Clive and his goons hang around the area of Isabelle's locker and he creased his forehead suspiciously. Something was going to happen today… Suddenly, he heard Petey gasp.  
"Ohmigod," he said, hushed, trying to hold back his laughter. "She is so asking for trouble. . ."  
Gerry looked at what Petey was staring at and his jaw dropped open. Isabelle was walking down the hall in full stereotypical hippie attire: extra large bellbottoms with a colorfully woven belt, a white long-sleeved peasant shirt with floral embroidery, and tan sandals. She straightened her usually curly hair and wrapped a leather strap around her forehead, she wore a necklace with a big peace sign pendant and matching rings and earrings. She had tinted John Lennon sunglasses on the tip of her nose and flipped her hair over her shoulders to emphasize the piece of hemp around her neck.   
"She's one brave soul," Rev murmured, his eyes wide with astonishment.  
"Morning, Clive," she greeted, approaching her locker. "Missed you at the protest this morning."  
He glared at her as students laughed at her joke. "You think you're so clever, don't you?" he said lowly, trying to restrain his anger. He was shown up again! When Clive Henry doesn't finish his breakfast, he is one person not to mess with.  
She stopped combing her locker for her history paper and looked thoughtfully at him. "Just a little."  
  
"Did you see Isabelle and that get-up?" Emma asked Gerry at lunch. He nodded. "She's really looking for trouble with Clive."  
He shrugged. "It was just a harmless prank. I thought it was kinda funny."  
"Funny?" she asked incredulously. "It's just, she's new here and being sarcastic and mean during her first week ain't exactly smart or funny. It ain't wise to make enemies when you're new, Gerry."  
Gerry leaned back on his elbow on the grass and looked up at Emma. She's so pretty, he thought, studying her as she stared off into space. She glanced down at him and smiled, blushing. "What are you staring at?"  
"You," he grinned. He suddenly stood up and wiped his jeans off of any grass that might've stuck onto his behind. "I'm just gonna use the bathroom real quick, okay?" She nodded and watched him walk away to the school's entrance, and then turned back to see his teammates in their usual spot, goofing off.  
She thought, But, where's Isabelle?  
  
Is someone following me? Isabelle thought, as she walked down the hallway at lunch that afternoon. She was on her way back outside, having dropped off something for a teacher, when she heard footsteps nearing her. Familiar footsteps. She stopped and did an about face only to see Clive and his two friends approaching her; and they looked miffed.  
"*Now* what do you want?" she groaned.   
"I think we need to have a little talk," Clive said, stopping in front of her. He looked her in the eye and she mentally backed down. He looks. . . like he's going. . . to explode, she thought. "You think you can just waltz right into Alexandria and make a fool outta me? No, missy, don't work like that 'round here."  
"Well, I'm sorry I offended you. Now, I'm going—"  
"I ain't done," he said, his voice low and ominous. "You just don't know when to back off; all you Californian activists and shit. You come here an' try an' act different; hanging out with those darker kids." He started walking closer to her, trying to intimidate her, and it worked. Just a little.  
"Then, I'll stay out of your way," she offered. "Forever."  
"Too late." Clive continued to edge closer, and the look he was giving her startled Isabelle. She backed up a little, but Clive continued on.  
What is wrong with this guy?! Isabelle thought, suddenly backing herself up against a locker. Great, I'm trapped. She watched him get closer. He wouldn't hit a girl, would he? She winced when he was just a few inches away from her. Or on second thought. . .  
"Look, just leave me alone, okay? I'm sorry for everything I've done and I'll stay out of your way. Just leave me alone."  
He smiled at her. "Ain't so clever now, eh?"  
"Oh, please, get *off* of me," she exclaimed, pushing him squarely on his shoulders. "I've better things to do than to continue this argument." She started to push past him when he roughly grabbed her arm. "Ow! Watch it!" He yanked her back in the middle of him and his friends and the two glared at each other.  
"Isabelle?"  
She peaked out from in front of Clive to see who was calling her. She felt a wave of relief wash over her and glanced up at the ceiling, silently thanking God.   
"Gerry, hi!" she exclaimed, wrenching her arm out of Clive's grip. She scurried past him and stood next to him. She stood so close, that she tentatively picked a piece of lint off his shoulder and then looked back up and mockingly gave Clive her best game face.   
"Butt out, Bertier," Clive said with annoyance, ignoring Isabelle. "How bout you mind your own business?"  
"How bout I don't?" Gerry suggested calmly. "I believe Isabelle asked you to leave her alone. So, why don't you leave her alone?"  
"Why don't you leave *us* alone? I have a few issues to settle with her."  
Gerry walked up to Clive and looked him in the eye. In a low voice he said, "If you don't leave Isabelle alone, I swear to you, I'll break something inside of you." He paused and thoughtfully added, "don't forget; she's pretty close with a majority of the football team, too."   
"Is that a threat?"  
"No, that's a warning."   
He watched as Clive and his friends back down and leave in a huff and he turned around to find Isabelle standing there a small smile on her lips. She clapped her hands and walked towards him.  
"Thanks, Gerry," she said sincerely. He smiled and put an arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry for how I've been treating you lately. I practically wrote you off as non-existent, but you still came to my rescue."  
"Course I did," he grinned. He paused. "Can't we be friends at least?"  
She put her arms around his waist and gave him a friendly squeeze. "Yes; I'd love to be friends with you." She smiled ear to ear and let herself hug Gerry once more. She loved the feeling of his arm around her, his eyes looking into hers. . . but, no. She stopped herself from running away with her fantasies. He was taken already. She took a deep breath and changed the subject. "So, congratulations! The guys were ranting and raving about your first game; heard it was a smash."  
He pulled his arm away hooked it through hers as he started leading her back outside. "It was—we hope you can make it to our next game. But, anyway, how was your date with Ray?"  
  
*Okay, I'm mistaken (for those of you who already read this part). The whole Gerry standing up Julius for a game of basketball happens before their second game. So anyway that part still happens—I just don't feel like writing it in.*  
  
Despite getting along off the field and during practice, hostilities were up and running among the Titans the night of their second game. Particularly between Julius and Gerry. The night air was as thick and suffocating as it was on the first day of school. After Gerry had turned away from Julius, he looked up to scan the crowds in the bleachers. He found Emma almost immediately, a swirl of smoke escaping her mouth with her every breath with the coolness of September slowly taking place of the humid summer nights. But, his eyes passed over her as he continued searching for someone else. He was pulled away by Coach Boone before he found what he wasn't exactly sure he was looking for.  
"Well, at least his focus is back," Alan pointed out to Sunshine, watching Gerry giving his team a spirited pep talk.  
The game went on, and the guys managed to pull together for a victory. With the pressure of the game behind them, the Titans were back to their old fun-loving, relaxed selves as they bounded into the locker room bursting with energy and excitement. They hurriedly dressed and went out to the bus, eager to see the reactions of their family and friends.   
"What are you doing to celebrate? Wanna go out to eat or something?" Julius asked on the bus. Gerry smiled, glad that he and his friend had silently and mutually made up.  
"Ah, no. Emma and I are gonna go do somethin'."   
"Oh, a little side celebration? I see how it is," Blue teased, nudging him.  
Gerry laughed and held up his hands. "No, no, nothin' like that." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and continued, "But, you know. . ." His friends laughed around him, when he saw the small crowd waiting for them in front of the school. He easily picked out Emma's blond head, as she waited for him, brimming with pride and excitement.  
"Congratulations! That was a great game!" Emma exclaimed breathlessly, throwing herself into his arms. She kissed him briefly and pulled away.   
"Thanks," he grinned. He put an arm around her waist and led her to where Rev and Petey were standing, and formally introduced them to Emma. He swallowed nervously, waiting to see how she would react this time around. Then, to his surprise and delight, she saw her extend her hand out. "What. . .? What changed your mind about--?" he asked her.  
"Isabelle came to the game late and we sat next to each other. I said something and she. . . she just pointed out a few things to me and helped me see the error in my ways," Emma told him. "She's really nice. Maybe on Monday we can join them at lunch?"  
Gerry beamed at her. "You really mean that?" Just then, Julius came up to them and was re-introduced to the "new and improved" Emma. He grinned at her and then looked up at Gerry, who said, "I heard Isabelle was in the stands tonight. You seen her?"  
Julius shot him a look of hesitancy and nodded for Gerry to look behind him. Isabelle was there, congratulating Rev and Sunshine when Ray suddenly came up behind her. Startled, she turned around and threw her arms around his neck. She said something to Ray to make him laugh, and Gerry frowned. What could be so funny?  
"So, where do you want to celebrate, champ?" Emma asked him. With his eyes still on Isabelle and Ray, he said  
"Uh, you seem to like Isabelle. . . why don't we double up with her and Ray?"  
  
"Sorry, man," Ray said a few minutes later, winking at his friend. "We kind of made our own plans."  
"Really? Doing what?" Gerry inquired, his voice a little too brash than he intended.   
"Isabelle."  
She gasped and shoved him away, as Emma laughed lightly. "Very funny! I don't think so." Rolling her eyes, she turned to the couple before, "We'll probably just go out to eat or something. I really have no idea what goes on in his head."  
You really wouldn't want to know, Gerry thought.  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I'm sad to say that i do not own Remember the Titans, the characters, the directors, or anything associated to the movie. The wonderful world of Disney owns all that good stuff. I do own Isabelle Brooke, her family, and that Clive Henry thug...but that's about all. I unfortunately have NO relations to Ryan Hurst either...but Christmas really isn't that far away now that i think about it....YUMMY! :)   
  
Chapter 5  
  
"What's wrong?" Gerry exclaimed one night, as Isabelle limped out to his car. She winced and rubbed her behind.  
"Well, when you called me this afternoon to see if I was busy, I was in the shower. My mom went over to her friend's house or something and so I ran out to get it. By the time we hung up, there was a huge puddle of water at my feet. I slipped and WHAMO, I'm looking at that gross spider web on my ceiling."  
He laughed and helped her into his Camero. "I'm sorry. Okay, so where do you want to eat?"  
She threw her hands up. "I don't know; I've barely lived here for two weeks!"  
"To Burger World then. Best cheeseburgers in town," he grinned, backing out of her driveway.  
A few minutes later, the two of them were sitting in a booth-for-two at Burger World, with a whirlwind of familiar faces from T.C. Williams around them. Burger World was quite plain; regular black vinyl booths, chairs, and stools, aluminum tables and countertops, and a jukebox near the front of the establishment. Past the people eating at the counter, the hired help behind the counter, you were able to see the food being prepared.  
"So, why aren't you taking Emma out tonight?" Isabelle asked, handing the waitress her menu. She folded her hands on the table and looked at Gerry, who sat back.  
"She's not feeling well."  
Isabelle laughed out loud. "Well, then, shouldn't you be there with her cooking up a big pot of chicken noodle soup?"  
He shrugged. "She likes to be alone when she's sick." He decided to turn the tables and asked her about Ray, as their drinks arrived.  
"What about him?" She giggled and her eyes lit up. "Did you think we were dating? Ha! We went on like, two dates and that's about it. He's a lot to take, if you ask me. Nope, sorry, Ray's not my cup of Earl Grey."  
Their food soon arrived and they ate, an awkward silence never falling between them. Isabelle had plenty to say and ask, and Gerry was always ready with an answer or an argument. They found out that they had more in common than they thought and enjoyed each company throughout the night. It turns out that they both listened to the same type of music, they were both only children, and they both liked the same foods—those were a few of the things they had in common, among the long list.  
"So, you want to go see a movie?" Isabelle asked, as they finished eating. "My treat."  
  
"Oof!" Isabelle winced slightly and gave Sheryl a thumbs up sign. "Nice pass."  
Isabelle never imagined that morning that she'd be spending her evening baby-sitting Sheryl. Then again, she never imagined that her mother and Coach Yoast would go out on a *date*. Coach Yoast had dropped his daughter off at the Brookes' when he picked up Isabelle's mother, and after they left, she had spent about half an hour explaining to Sheryl what was going on between their parents. But, she had soon grown restless and dragged her baby sitter out to the backyard where she found an old basketball in the shed. Since there was an old, rusting metal hoop already installed on the garage, Sheryl proposed a game.  
"Thanks," she said. "But, I prefer football."  
Isabelle winked. "I prefer football *players*." She dribbled and made a shot, and they watched it teeter on the ring. The two girls still stared at the ball and finally watched it fall to the ground without going in the net. But, their attention was suddenly redirected to the sound of a car pulling into the driveway.  
"Gerry!" the little girl exclaimed excitedly, dashing towards the car.  
"Hey there," he laughed, high-fiving her. "Playing a little game of basketball?" She nodded her head vigorously, when he squatted down and looked up at her. "She any good?" he whispered loudly. Before she could answer, he said, "I saw her last shot. She could use some work, don't you think?"  
Isabelle laughed and put her hands on her hips, pretending to be offended. "Yes, I know I'm not good at sports; what are you going to do about it?"  
"What we're going to do, is play," Sheryl declared. "You can have Gerry on your team. Then, *maybe* you can beat me."  
Even though she was half their size, Sheryl proved to be a great athlete. When they played, she quickly scored the first basket, and Gerry right after her. Once, he passed Isabelle the ball, and her shot didn't go in, so she braced herself for the teasing comments she knew she was going to get.   
"Some offense you got!" Gerry joked, pushing her around. They continued playing, unaware of the sun setting, the cooling autumn breeze picking up, and the night sky starting to fall upon Alexandria. The days were becoming shorter and the nights coming quicker, but none of that was on their minds as they continued playing. At one point, as Isabelle chased Sheryl and the ball, Gerry grabbed hold of her.  
"Go, Sheryl, go!" he exclaimed. She made her shot and cast him a confused look.  
"Isabelle's on *your* team!"  
He laughed and released his teammate. "I know. The game was tied and I had to let you win so it'd end." He winked. "Besides, it's gettin' cold out here; we ought to get you inside before you get sick." Isabelle agreed and led them inside her house through the backdoor and into the kitchen.  
"Are you hungry?" she asked, taking them to the den and study room at the back of her house. She ushered the two to take a seat on the plush, worn in, blue couch in front of the television. "There's a good movie on tonight and if you'd like; I'll go warm something up. I think we have some frozen pizzas."  
"Cheese?" Sheryl asked, looking up from her spot on the couch.   
"Cheese," she assured. "I'll be back in a few minutes then." She left them in the den and made her way back to her small kitchen, when she heard footsteps behind her. Spinning around, she found Gerry standing in the doorway.   
"I really hope you don't mind that I just dropped by," he apologized, watching her pull a large, round pizza from her freezer.  
"Of course I don't mind, silly," she laughed. She quieted down as she unwrapped their dinner and placed it into the oven. "I. . .I just wonder why you're not with Emma tonight."  
The burly football player sighed and sat down at her kitchen table. "She went out to dinner with her family; it's her daddy's birthday."   
"Well, I'm glad you came here, then." Isabelle sensed that there was more to the story than he was conveying. Maybe it's just hopeful thinking, she told herself. But, no. I can sense it. Something's bugging that boy.  
  
Two hours, a movie, and two pizzas later Isabelle looked over at Sheryl, who wedged herself between Isabelle and Gerry, to find her slumped against him, fast asleep. Isabelle smiled up at him and leaned over to wipe some pizza sauce from Sheryl's cheek. They moved silently, as he carefully slid out from under the sleeping girl and rested her head on a nearby pillow, and Isabelle put a blanket over her and cleaned up the mess. He followed her to the kitchen, as she stuffed a few napkins in the garbage.  
"I can't believe it; Yoast and your mom," Gerry laughed. "What a small world; the two of them meeting again."  
Before she could respond, they heard the front door opening and left the kitchen to see who it was. Mrs. Brooke and Coach Yoast walked into the living room, a bundle of laughs and giggles, both looking years younger. Mrs. Brooke was blushing and giggling like a schoolgirl, and Coach Yoast had a sparkle in his eye that Gerry hadn't seen before. The two adults looked up at the two staring teenagers, and returned their gawk with one of their own.  
"Gerry?" Coach Yoast asked, his eyebrows bunching in confusion and suspicion. "Uh, what are you doing here?"  
"Oh, yes!" Isabelle exclaimed, snapping her fingers. "Mom, this is Gerry Bertier. Gerry, this is my mom." He stepped forward to shake her hand and caught Mrs. Brooke shoot Isabelle a bewildered expression that said, "Isabelle, what are you doing having strange boys over at night? When I'm gone and you're baby sitting, nonetheless!"  
"I just dropped by to say hello—" he started.  
"And I invited him to stay with me and Sheryl," she finished. She turned to Coach Yoast. "She's in the den sleeping. We ate already and we watched a movie. She was lots of fun."  
"Behaved?" he asked, as she led him towards the back of the house, leaving Mrs. Brooke and Gerry in the living room.  
"Oh, yes, Sheryl was perfect."  
"No," Coach Yoast laughed, "I meant Gerry."  
Back in the living room, Gerry quickly excused himself to retrieve his jacket from the den. He hurried after his friend and coach, wanting to avoid the awkward silence that would be inevitable between him and Mrs. Brooke. He watched his coach gather his sleeping daughter in his arms and carry her out, winking at Gerry as he passed him. He and Isabelle heard the two adults exchange a few words before the coach left, and she led him back to the kitchen.  
"Thanks for coming over," Isabelle smiled, walking Gerry out to the back door where his car was parked. He looked down at her in the eye and gave her a quick hug.  
"Thanks for letting me stay. I'll see you later."  
  
"Gerry, what a surprise," Mrs. Brooke exclaimed one afternoon. She quickly ushered him inside, and closed the door behind him. "What brings you here?"  
"Well, Isabelle hasn't been in school for two days, and I just came by after practice to check up on her."  
She smiled, touched by his gesture. "Well, she's right upstairs in her room. Why don't you go say hello?" She led him to the kitchen and handed him a bowl of chicken noodle soup. "Would you mind bringing this up to her? I need to run to the post office and the grocery store really quick; if you don't mind."  
"Oh, no," he assured, taking the bowl from her. "Take your time."  
She left him soon, and he quietly went up the stairs to look for his friend. He peaked into the first room on his left and tried to suppress his laughter. The usually poised Isabelle was now a sick wreck, as half her body hung off the side of her bed. Her dark locks were disarrayed in tangles and she laid face down, wheezing every now and then. Her blankets and pillows were scattered about her, Isabelle having twisted and turned all possible positions during the night.   
Before he stepped in to let her acknowledge his presence, he looked around her room. All her furniture was white; her desk, her dresser, her closet door, her bed post, her bookshelf, and her night stand. Her walls were painted a soft yellow, and her white curtains were pulled back to let the sunlight stream into her room through the windows. There was a record player on the floor next to the bookshelf with piles and piles of records, and a radio right next to it. Pictures, magazines, more records, and books were in various piles around her bed; obviously there to keep her entertained while she was bedridden. Her night table was a nightmare; three used boxes of tissue and a garbage bin next to it full of used wads of them. A spoon, bottles of medication, glasses of juice and water, and bags and wrappers of cough drops piled on top of one another.  
Balancing the soup with on one hand, he softly knocked on the door and he entered slowly. She heavily lifted her face up, and when she saw Gerry, she screamed and fell off her bed. Quickly putting the bowl down on her desk, he rushed over to help her up. Behind her messy hair, he saw her familiar brown eyes puffy and swollen and her nose red from blowing it constantly.  
"Are you all right?" he exclaimed, helping her back into her bed.  
"Yeah, thanks." She groaned and buried her face into her pillow. "What are you *doing* here?"  
"Visiting. Here's some soup," he said, picking up the bowl and offering it to her. She weakly shook her head and ducked under the covers.  
"Here's a tip; I don't like company when I'm sick. I feel gross, I look gross, and I don't really want my friends to see that."  
"Tough," he shot back, grabbing her white desk chair and pulling it up by her. "I came to keep you company and I ain't leavin' any time soon."  
She glared at him from under her covers and shook her head. "Don't you have football stuff to do?" He shook his head and she groaned even louder with exasperation and went back under. Suddenly, her hand shot out from under the blanket and she felt around on the floor until she found a hair tie. She pulled her messy mop back from her face and smiled wanly at Gerry. "I'll take the Miss America pageant by storm with this look, don't you think?"  
"Hands down," he laughed.   
Gerry spent the rest of the afternoon with Isabelle, keeping her company and keeping her entertained with stories about the football team, what was happening at school, and just idle things. The two always had something to say to each other, and so they never got bored together.   
"See, no, *this* one is supposed to make your skin smooth and stuff, and *this* one hides all your skin defects and blemishes," Isabelle explained. She and Gerry were sitting side by side on the floor, their backs against her bed, with one of her magazines between them.  
"Think I need it?" he joked, jutting his cheek out at her for inspection. She patted it, laughing, and pushed his face away from her.  
"Smooth as a baby's behind," she teased. Isabelle flipped the page and saw Gerry check his wrist watch and sag his broad shoulders.   
"Well, I hate to leave you now, but I gotta get home for supper," he said, his tone of voice disappointed. He stood up and grabbed his jacket and backpack as she hoisted herself up. "I'll see you tomorrow morning?"   
She nodded. "Bright and early."  
RING! RING!  
Isabelle scooped up the telephone in her room, as she signaled for Gerry to wait for her.  
"Ray? Hi," she said into the phone. "Listen, can you hold on a few moments? Thanks."  
  



	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I'm sad to say that i do not own Remember the Titans, the characters, the directors, or anything associated to the movie. The wonderful world of Disney owns all that good stuff. I do own Isabelle Brooke, her family, and that Clive Henry thug...but that's about all. I unfortunately have NO relations to Ryan Hurst either...but Christmas really isn't that far away now that i think about it....YUMMY! :)   
  
Chapter 6  
  
"Well, look who's back among the living," Sunshine teased two days later, as he and Julius approached Isabelle at her locker.  
"You feelin' better? If not, you better get your sick behind well in time to watch us at regionals," Julius joked, patting her shoulder.  
"Oh, I'll be there," she assured, smiling up at them. "Ray told me what happened at Groveton last night. Is Rev doin' all right?" Isabelle closed the metal door and glanced up to where Gerry was going through his own belongings down the hall and found Rev standing by him, his wrist bandaged up. "Never mind; come on."  
She sped down the hall with Sunshine and Julius at her heels and stopped abruptly in front of Rev, gently taking his injured hand in hers. "How's it feel?" she asked him, inspecting his wrist. She was concerned for him—he was the first person who befriended her in Alexandria.  
"It's not throbbing with pain anymore," he offered, shrugging his shoulders. "It feels sore; that's about it."  
Isabelle smiled and then turned to Sunshine and gave him a big pat on his back. "And I heard about your stunning performance last night, too! Way to go, dude!" He laughed, as Gerry shut his locker and turned around, his face somewhat expressionless.  
"Did you hear about Ray, too?"  
She stopped showering Rev and Sunshine with praise and looked at Gerry with a strange expression on her face. "Yes. He called me last night and told me everything." He stared at her, preparing for her to defend Ray. "That had to be hard; telling him that. I know you two were close and I'm sorry you had to go through it."  
He looked back at her, stunned. "How come you're not defending him?"  
"Ray?" she laughed. "Come on. Coach Yoast came by our house last night to drop something off for Mom and he told me everything that happened—what really happened." She looked down at her watch. "Speaking of which, I promised that I'd meet Ray before school started. I'll see you guys later!" She flashed them a bright smile and skipped down the corridor.  
"Bertier, what's the matter? You looked disturbed," Sunshine asked, as Isabelle took off down the hallway.  
Julius studied his friend, and felt suspicions rising. Suspicions that he's had before, that have lingered in him for a while, and suspicions that are now showing a little truth in them. It's like living in a soap opera, Julius thought.   
Gerry cleared his throat and caught Julius' knowing expression, and then averted his eyes. "To be perfectly honest, Ray isn't the nicest guy around. Especially now, having been kicked off the team. He's just. . . he's just not the best person to be dating."  
Sunshine shrugged, oblivious to Gerry's feelings. "She'll be fine."  
  
"Are you busy tonight?"   
Isabelle looked at her reflection in the mirror and made a sour face. She was trying out a new make up kit her mom had given her and decided that blue eyeshadow wasn't for her. "No," she told Gerry on the phone, "why? Do you want to do something?" She vigorously wiped off the harsh blue color, and tentatively popped open the cap of the new tube of Stormy Scarlet and stared at it, contemplating on whether to smear it on her pink lips or not, for it was too wild for her liking.  
"Yeah, I do—that's why I called. Anything in mind?"   
She looked up at the mirror and crinkled her forehead with worry. Gerry's voice sounded particularly anxious and agitated. But, she wouldn't question him just yet. Isabelle would wait until they were out and he was more relaxed.  
"Well," she said lightly, trading the lipstick for her usual pink gloss, and then dabbling in the variety of blush colors, "I haven't been given the official tour of Alexandria yet. . ."  
  
"So, where are you taking me first?" she asked, as she ushered Gerry into the living room. She pulled on her jacket and buttoned it up, as he reopened her front door. He placed his hand at her back and led her out, and then let her lock her front door.  
"We're going to eat, that's where we're going first," he declared, as they got into his car and he pulled out onto her street. "What do you feel like having tonight?" There was a short silence of thought when they both said, "Italian?"  
Isabelle snorted with laughter, "I have to admit; we've been spending a lot of time together." She looked out her window as Gerry drove out of the winding streets full of houses and garages and parks and onto the brightly lit streets of downtown Alexandria. Little restaurants and shops were lined up, one after the other, some brimming with activity, and others starting to close for the night. Light spilled onto the sidewalks, illuminating silhouettes of people walking along, entering a store, or leaving a restaurant.  
Soon, Gerry pulled up in front of a small, corner lot and parked next to it. A simple red and white sign hung in front of it; Little Italy. He ushered her into the itty bitty place, and Isabelle was immediately taken with the establishment. It's smallness was part of the cozy feel you sensed as soon as you stepped inside. There were cushioned, spacious booths lining both sides of the restaurant and running down the center. The ceiling lights were dimmed, and the room was mostly lit by the candle light by each table. Every thing was furnished with dark cherry wood, and the seats were cushioned red. The walls were cream and maroon, and the only decoration offered by Little Italy were long strings of grape vines and ivy. Soft Italian opera songs played to a couple tucked away in the back—they were the only customers at the moment.  
"It's a little Alexandria secret," Ryan told her, as they were seated in a booth for two. "No one knows about this place; even though this town is tiny. But, the food here is the best."  
  
"That was delicious!" Isabelle raved, as she and Gerry walked out of the restaurant and to his car . "I've never had Italian food that good."  
He beamed, "I'm glad you liked it. Now, where shall we go next?" He looked down at her as she buckled her seatbelt. "There really isn't much to show, I'm sorry. Just. . . oh, wait a minute. I've got an idea."  
"Really, what?" she asked, detecting a gleam in his eye. He was starting to ease up and relax, but Isabelle could tell there was still something on his mind. She hadn't conjured up the nerve to ask him what exactly it was that was preoccupying his thoughts.  
She pried him to tell her where he was taking her, but he wouldn't give in. They argued the whole time until she realized that he had slowed to a stop. She looked out and laughed. "An ice rink?" she asked skeptically.  
"Come on," he coaxed, getting out and leading her to the small rink. "It'll be fun. Especially since it won't be crowded." He motioned to the nearly empty parking lot and opened the door for her to the rink.  
"Yeah, a big guy like you needs all the space he can get," she teased, handing the teller their fee.   
"Are you saying I'm fat?!" he exclaimed, pretending to be offended. He laughed lightly and retrieved their skates, leading her to a bench for them to get ready.  
"Gerry, you ate a huge bowl of spaghetti and meatballs, half a loaf of garlic bread, cheese sticks, and a salad!" She smiled at him and nudged his shoulder. "I'm joking. Look at that muscle!" She squeezed his arm and laughed. As she bent up to tie her skates, Isabelle was conscious of his presence next to her. He was sitting close to her—she thanked Heaven that the benches were small—and she felt his arm brush against hers on more than one occasion. Little excited tingles ran up and down her and she swallowed silently.  
I'm falling for this guy, aren't I? Isabelle thought to herself. Well, no one can *ever* know it. Gerry stood up and offered Isabelle a hand. She accepted and balanced on the two thin blades as they made their way to the rink. She thought, But holding hands can't hurt, right?  
Lost in her thoughts, she wasn't fully aware as she stepped onto the ice and she immediately slid. . . right into Gerry's arms. She looked up—and up—at him as he grinned mischievously.   
"You. . . don't skate?" he guessed.  
"Only a little," she fibbed. "But, uh, why don't you race me to the other side?"  
He looked down at her thoughtfully. "Wanna wager that?"  
"Loser buys ice cream."   
Gerry's brown eyes lit up and he eagerly accepted the challenge. Instantly, the race began, and Gerry whizzed by. Let's see, he thought, I think I'll have a hot fudge sundae—no wait, maybe a banana split—what?! He suddenly saw Isabelle fly right past him and expertly stop at the end. Smiling smugly at him, she lightly tapped the railing.  
"Let's see, Gerry," she called out, "I think I'm in the mood for a banana split. Or maybe a double scoop of chocolate chip?" He laughed and skated over to where she was waiting for him.  
"You tricked me!" he exclaimed. "I wanna rematch!" She accepted with a handshake and they readied themselves at the end of the bare rink. They raced down the ice, both huffing and puffing to reach the end, when Gerry pulled ahead. I'm gonna wi—ahh! He suddenly slipped and slid down the ice on his behind, all the while facing Isabelle, who was charging on smiling and laughing. He waited a few seconds until she was passing right by him, when he grabbed onto her leg, bringing her down.  
"Hey, cheater!" she exclaimed, still trying to reach the end. She was crawling as best as she could with Gerry clinging onto her, when she felt him release her. They both scrambled up and tried to beat each other when he slipped again and crashed into Isabelle, sending the both of them tumbling onto the cold, white ice.   
"You really want that ice cream, don't you?" she exclaimed in between fits of laughter. The laughter soon started to die out and she looked up at Gerry who was sprawled out on top of her. Her heart started racing, as he tried to get up. He was right on top of her, but he kept slipping, so he wasn't really getting anywhere. She cleared her thoughts and smiled. "Here," she offered, "let me help you." She then placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him off her, sending him sliding over to her right.  
  
"Let's take a walk," Isabelle suggested, as she and Gerry walked out of the ice cream shop. He led her down the sidewalk, the late streets of Alexandria now almost deserted. The two had actually slipped into the ice cream shop a minute before it closed. Now, the two of them strolled down the main street with ice cream cones in their hands. They walked, a comforting and familiar silence between them, as Gerry led her down different streets and turned on different corners.  
"Where are you taking me?" she asked, popping the end of her sugar cone in her mouth. Gerry had long finished his, and he offered her a sly smile; the only consolation as to where they were going. She looked up at the dark sky and reveled in the beauty of the glowing stars and iridescent moon. The night made the air around them grow colder, as a slight breezed billowed past them. "It's a pretty night."  
He seemed startled by her sudden words as he looked down at her, and then up at the sky. "Yeah. . . I suppose it is."  
"It's never this nice in the city—especially one like Los Angeles. Now, where are you taking me again?"  
He laughed, and nodded up ahead, letting her laughter float about him. Before them was the grand football field of the T.C. Williams Titans. They soon approached the open field, the scent of the dewy grass pungent in the cool evening air. Some of the lights were turned on, leaving a dim blanket of light for them to creep onto the bleachers overlooking their school field.   
"Gerry," she said softly, deciding that now was the time. He was in his element and should be feeling quite comfortable and relaxed. "There's been something on your mind hasn't there? And it's been bugging you."  
He looked sharply at her, his eyes asking her how she could have guessed. They looked at each other, and after a few moments she said, "That's all right; you don't have to tell me anything."  
"It's just," he hesitated, " me and Emma. . . we're having a few relationship problems. . ."  
Isabelle's initial reaction was one of concern, rather than the happiness she thought she should expect. "I'm sure you two will work it out."  
"I don't know," he said sadly, "it just ain't there anymore. We've grown apart. We're too different now. We tried working it out and spending more time together, but it just ain't workin'." And I think I know why, he thought gazing at Isabelle's worried face.  
"Is there anything I can do? Talk to Emma for you?"  
He shook his head and sighed, "Oh, Izzy, an' I feel so guilty because. . . when I think of us breaking up, I don't feel as sad as I should be." She patted his arm when he laughed to himself. "Did I just call you Izzy?" She smiled and nodded. "I'm sorry; it just slipped."  
"Don't be," she assured, "I think it's cute." She playfully pinched his cheek and added, "Just like you."  
  
Later on, after a long, hard day at school, Isabelle tiredly let herself into her house. She dropped her jacket and bag at the foot of the stairs and went into the kitchen to grab a soda, when she was startled by an unexpected guest sitting at the dining table.   
"Dad!"   
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I'm sad to say that i do not own Remember the Titans, the characters, the directors, or anything associated to the movie. The wonderful world of Disney owns all that good stuff. I do own Isabelle Brooke, her family, and that Clive Henry thug...but that's about all. I unfortunately have NO relations to Ryan Hurst either...but Christmas really isn't that far away now that i think about it....YUMMY! :)   
  
Chapter 7  
  
Isabelle cast a panicked look at her mother, who was sitting beside her ex-husband, her shoulders tensed with distraught. Mr. Brooke stood up and hugged his daughter, who didn't return his embrace. She bitterly recalled how he was the one who walked out on them. How he was the one who chose his career over his family. She loved him still, but if he chose his profession over his family—over her—then he must not love her like she did. Why should he deserve her affection?   
"What are you doing here, Dad?" she asked, her voice low. If her father took precious time out of his schedule to fly across the country to tell her something. . . this something was pretty big.  
"Sit down, sweetie," Mrs. Brooke urged her. Her hands were balled into tight fists, her knuckles turning white and Isabelle thought, Okay, something bad's up.  
"Dad, what are you doing here?" she repeated, staring him in the eye. Just spit it out, she thought. Just *say it*!  
"Isabelle, how would you like to come back to live in California with me?" he asked. He smiled charmingly, trying to ease the tensioned air between father and daughter. He was a handsome man, and Isabelle could easily see that she inherited her dark hair and eyes from him. That was probably where their similarities ended; her father never did spend much quality time with her—there was always one meeting or another, or one business trip here or there. He reached across the table to take one of her hands in his and he patted her stiff fingers.  
Shock gripped her heart, as her father's words sank in. "What?" she uttered, withdrawing her hand from her father.  
"How would you like to come live with me in California again?"  
He's smiling too wide, she noted to herself. Something's up. "Live with you?"  
Isabelle saw the hesitation in his eyes. There, she observed with a smirk creeping onto her lips. But, the satisfaction wouldn't last long. "Isabelle, I've decided that I want full custody of you."  
"What?! No!" she shouted, jumping from her chair. "You just can't waltz into our lives and just *tell* us that! No, I'm not moving back to California!"  
He stood up, the hurt in his eyes clear and sharp. "Isabelle, don't you want to live with me?"  
"No!" she snapped. "What's the point? You'd never be home anyway, and I what would I do? Hang out with my backstabbing friends?! No!"  
"Isabelle, let me explain," he said calmly. "I can provide a better life for you. I can send you to a top notch school and college."  
"No," she said firmly. "You deserted Mom and I. I'm not about to put her through that a second time."  
He gestured to the kitchen wildly. "Are you honestly happy here, Isabelle?" he exclaimed. She looked around her simple kitchen, and thought of her simple home. It was quite a contrast to her old life and house in California that was blooming with luxuries, and expensive things decorating their walls and rooms. It was full of color and extravagance, and definitely larger than their plain house in Alexandria.   
"Yes," she said quietly. "I am."   
  
"I'm sorry, coach!" Gerry exclaimed, "I just have a lot on my mind!"  
"Oh, do you?" Coach Boone said in that low, intimidating voice he was known for. "Well, it's obvious that the team ain't high up on your list. You're distracted at practice, your focus is everywhere but football. Your enthusiasm is down during team huddles, you don't encourage your teammates as much as you used to. It's as if your off in your own little world! Gerry, regionals are right around the corner! "   
"Is this because of your decision to take Ray off the team?" Coach Yoast asked, his voice much more gentle than Boone's. Gerry looked up at the man's kind, familiar face. Ray. Yes, Ray was part of the problem. Gerry recalled walking to the locker room this afternoon after school for practice, when he passed. He overheard Ray talking about Isabelle and how they've dated.   
"Ah, well, I don't know if she's my *girlfriend*," he had said modestly. "But, well, you know how these things are . . ." Then, when Gerry arrived onto the field, all padded up and ready for practice, he saw Ray and Isabelle talking and smiling in the parking lot, before she got into her car and left. The two of them had been on Gerry's mind ever since then.   
"Gerry?"   
The team captain snapped out of his daydream to see his coaches staring at him, both concerned and perturbed . Yoast leaned forward on his desk and clasped his hands together, as Boone stood behind him, his hands on his hips. "Gerry, if you have enough stress on you as it is, and you need to step down from your position as captain for a while—"  
"No!" he exclaimed, jumping up. "Look, I'm sorry, all right? I'll clean up, I'll focus, okay?" He grabbed his helmet and headed for the locker rooms.  
As he walked out of their office, Gerry grimly thought to himself, Unfortunately, the only way I'll be able to do that is to take drastic measures.  
  
"Hello?"  
"Gerry?"  
He stood, rooted to his kitchen floor. Isabelle was on the phone. "Yeah?" he answered slowly.  
"I. . .I need to talk to you. It's important." His heart twisted and his stomach turned. She sounded upset, but he knew he couldn't back down from his plan; he had to remain steadfast and focused. If Isabelle had problems and she was turning to him, that would only add to his mind activity—and that was the last thing he needed. It pained him to turn her away, but if he wanted to stay captain. . .   
"Gerry, it's an emergency. Please, can we—"  
"I-I'm sorry, Isabelle," he stammered, "I can't talk right now." He quickly hung up the phone. Only until regionals, he assured himself. Only gotta keep this charade up till regionals. Then everything would be back to normal.  
  
"Hey, Bertier, you seen Isabelle? I need to borrow some notes from her."  
"I dunno, I haven't spoken to her in two days," Gerry answered somberly at his locker. He stared mindlessly into the metal depths; so far his strategy had been working. He was able to concentrate more on the field—Boone and Yoast had even noticed and praised him for it; for committing to the team. But, he received quite the opposite reaction from his friends.  
"I dunno, Bertier," Julius said doubtfully. "This don't seem like the right way to go about fixin' your problem."  
"You think I like avoiding her?" He turned around to see Lewy, Rev, and Sunshine stand by him. "Do you?"  
"No, man," Louie said, "it's just, on the field, you're back to normal: focused, aggressive, and stuff. But, off the field. . . you're always in a bad mood."  
Gerry shrugged his big shoulders. He tried to shake away the guilty feeling he bore, but he just couldn't. Isabelle's emotional voice kept ringing in his head, and the guilt weighed down on him even more. "It's only until regionals." He looked up at his friends for their nods of agreement and support. They stared back at him.  
"And then what?" Julius pressed. "What if we go onto state? You still gonna ignore her? You keep this up any longer and there ain't gonna be a friendship between you two no more."  
Gerry's attention was averted when he saw Isabelle walk past them, towards her locker. His gaze seemed to catch everyone's attention and they all watched her stroll past them. Her usually loose, bouncy curls were hastily pulled back in a ponytail, her eyes looked a little puffy, her nose a little red, and her full, pink lips pursed together in a tight line. She looked paler than normal, seemed a little disoriented, and her posture was slightly slumped and sagged.   
"She looks sick," Sunshine said. "I wonder what's the matter?"  
  
"I'm fine," she protested to Sunshine and Rev. She looked up at them for reassurance, but they wouldn't back down.  
When Isabelle walked into school that morning and caught sight of the small group gathered around Gerry, she groaned inwardly. She new she looked like a wreck that morning; her father hadn't left her alone since he arrived in Alexandria. His pestering and parental guilt trips were starting to take a toll on her appetite and sleep. The last thing she needed was for more people to jump on her with questions, and so she hurriedly walked by them trying not to attract attention to herself. But, that didn't seem to work. As soon as her fingers spun the dial on her lock, Sunshine and Rev were standing behind her.  
"Isabelle, you look horrible. We can tell you've been crying," Rev said gently. "Come on, you can tell us anything, we're your friends."  
"How can I be so sure?" she said bitterly, shutting her locker. "I thought Gerry was my friend but he turned his back just when—" she stopped herself, and pretended to busy herself by looking through her bag.  
"When what?" Sunshine prompted. He put a comforting arm around her and said softly, "You'll feel better once you've gotten everything off your chest."  
She pulled away and looked up at them. "Fine. I might be moving back to California."  
"What?!"  
She miserably relayed the conversation between her and her father, as she leaned against her locker for support. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she held them back. "And now he's going to take legal action because I won't go on my own. I don't know what his problem his; Mom and I are perfectly fine out here! And just when I really needed him—a friend to talk to—Gerry deserts me. Is he mad at me? I don't want him to be mad at me," she said forlornly, " I really need him now."  
  
It was the day before the big game and the team was in the locker room after an exhaustingly draining practice. Gerry stuffed a few things in his bag when he heard Alan call his name. Gerry swung his smoldering gaze to his longtime friend and stared at him expectantly. Alan rubbed his hands on his legs and advanced towards Gerry, stealing looks at a few people who were watching, waiting to hear what he had to say to their captain.   
"After school today, Isabelle and Ray were in the parking lot talking," Alan told Gerry. "You know how Isabelle is nowadays; she's really sad and stressed out and angry, right? Well, she just went off on Ray today. He said something to her about something and she just went all out; yelling and stuff and. . . she slapped him. She totally humiliated him."  
"So, they broke up?" Blue guessed, buttoning up his shirt not far from Gerry and Alan.  
Alan shrugged and looked at Gerry's curious expression, which was imploring him to continue. "Apparently they were never really dating in the first place. Turns out, Isabelle never thought of them as a couple—only wanted to be friends with him."  
Gerry stared at Alan, hoping that all he was saying was true. Ray and Isabelle were never dating, he thought. He spotted Rev getting dressed not too far away and he wove his way through the crowded locker room to where his friend was sitting. There was something Gerry needed to know, but he never found the right time to ask.  
"Rev, why's Isabelle so upset?"   
His teammate looked up at Gerry from where he was sitting. "Because of you." He avoided Gerry's searching eyes and bent over to tie his shoe. He could feel is stare boring holes in his back, and shifted uneasily. He didn't feel right divulging what she had told him and Sunshine that morning; after all, it was personal information.  
"She is? Please, you gotta tell me what's going on." He looked over when he saw Sunshine and Petey approach them, their gear slung over their shoulders. "Guys, what did Isabelle say? What's wrong?"  
Sunshine looked at him, his face a mix of sadness and hesitation. "Gerry, Isabelle's father's in town. He told her he wanted full custody of her and from the looks of it, she might be moving back to California." He added, "She really needed you, Gerry, but you were too caught up with the team and regaining your focus. She's really hurtin' from her dad, but even more because of what you did to her."  



	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I'm sad to say that i do not own Remember the Titans, the characters, the directors, or anything associated to the movie. The wonderful world of Disney owns all that good stuff. I do own Isabelle Brooke, her family, and that Clive Henry thug...but that's about all. I unfortunately have NO relations to Ryan Hurst either...but Christmas really isn't that far away now that i think about it....YUMMY! :)   
  


**Chapter 8**  


  
The next night, the Titans went on to the regionals, only to come back home with a hard earned victory. The bus ride home was loud and full of celebration, and the Titans were greeted with an equally warm welcome, with red and white confetti and streamers. A banner was hanging over the school's main entrance that read "Congratulations, Titans!" Friends, family, and students were crowded onto the campus to greet their winning football team, as the busses pulled into the loud, rambunctious lot.  
Gerry silently got off the bus and was thrust into the whirlwind of excited fans who were patting him on the back, calling his name, and slapping him high-fives. Gerry went through his motions mechanically, his mind too busy to concentrate on what was going on around him. He wished that he could join his friends and enjoy their victory, but there was just too much to do and too much on his mind. He watched Julius meet up with his girlfriend and he smiled to himself, when Emma skipped up to him. Her wide smile glowed and her cheeks were rosy from the cold air. Her soft eyes glittered with excitement and Gerry couldn't help but feel better in her presence.  
"Congratulations!" she exclaimed, jumping up and throwing her arms around his neck. "I'm so proud of you!"  
He smiled down at her. "Thanks, Emma."   
"Isabelle was just here. She had to leave though, so she told me to tell you and the guys congratulations."  
Isabelle was here, he thought, feeling his heart lurch. Gerry shook his head and tried to clear his mind, as he took her hand and started to lead her away from the crowds. "Listen, Emma, we need to talk. . ."  
  
It was very late at night—and perhaps early morning—when Gerry pulled up into his driveway. He sat in his car and recalled that night's events. He and Emma had taken a walk to get away from the rowdy crowds to talk at his request.   
"What is it, Gerry?" she had inquired. What could possibly be on his mind? Emma thought, bewildered. He just won one of the most important games; he'd usually be ecstatic. She saw the deep lines of thought settle onto his forehead and the hesitation in his eyes.  
"Emma, I love you, always remember that." He looked up ahead, not wanting to meet her eyes. "But, I just don't think I love you the way I used to. We've grown apart and the gap between us is just too wide. I—we—both were aware of this, I think, because we tried real hard to fix everything. We spent lots more time together and we talked together more than we used to."  
"Oh. Gerry—"  
"Emma, this is really hard for me to do," he continued, interrupting her. "I still care for you, but I think we should go our separate ways." When he didn't hear her say anything, he mustered up what courage he had and glanced down at her. She seemed sad, but not to the extent that he had expected. In fact, she looked understanding.  
"Gerry," she began gently, "I think you're right." She laughed at his confused and shocked expression and hooked her arm through his. "I've been noticing us drifting apart myself. We probably *are* better off just as friends." She sighed. "I'm still sad that we can't have what we used to have, but that feeling just ain't there anymore."  
Gerry breathed a sigh of relief and hugged her, feeling half of the burden he was carrying lifted. When he pulled away he grinned and said, "Well, come on, let's go party!"  
  
From the driver's seat in his Camaro, Gerry looked up at the sky and thought of that night not too long ago, when he and Isabelle walked the streets of Alexandria. It was a beautiful night; the moon was bright, and the sky was clear, so the stars twinkled brightly above the celebrating town. He smiled to himself and knew he needed to sort his thoughts and feelings out about Isabelle—after all, she was the reason most of this was happening. He had mixed emotions about her, and decided he would spend the night in bed thinking and sorting, thinking and sorting. He finally got out of his car and out of his daydream only to see Julius on his porch. He was sitting on a chair, hunched over, his hands clasped tightly together and his elbows resting on his knees. His chin rested on his hands as he stared mindlessly into space.   
From his walkway, Gerry tried to look into Julius' glazed eyes and sober face. He squinted and searched his friend's expressions for a hint as to what as going on in his mind. "Julius, is something the matter?" Gerry asked, starting to climb the stairs to his porch.  
Startled from his thoughts, Julius jumped up from his seat and pounced on Gerry immediately. "Bertier, where have you been? Me and Petey and Alan have been turning this town upside down looking for you!"  
"I. . . I was out with Emma and a few people. Why, what's wrong?"  
Julius swallowed hard, but remained strong. He had to; God knew how Gerry would react. "There ain't no easy way to tell this to you," he started, trying to keep his voice steady, " so I'll just come right out and say it."  
"Well?" he demanded impatiently. "What is it?"   
"Isabelle is in the hospital."  



	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I'm sad to say that i do not own Remember the Titans, the characters, the directors, or anything associated to the movie. The wonderful world of Disney owns all that good stuff. I do own Isabelle Brooke, her family, and that Clive Henry thug...but that's about all. I unfortunately have NO relations to Ryan Hurst either...but Christmas really isn't that far away now that i think about it....YUMMY! :)   
  


**Chapter 9**  


  
Gerry squealed into the hospital parking lot and charged straight into the waiting room, with Julius hot on his trail. His immediate reaction to the news was of shock, and without another word or glance, he had turned around and jumped back into his car. Julius ran halfway down the block, trying to flag him down, after which he got into Gerry's car and accompanied him. As Gerry sped down the streets, Julius had taken a quick once over at him; his jaw was set, his limbs were tense, and both his hands were tightly clamped around the steering wheel in his death grip. He remained somewhat calm and didn't utter a word, but there was a look of fear and panic in his eyes that startled Julius to the core.  
The two of them stumbled into the waiting room to see their friends, Isabelle's family, and a few other people , gathered in little huddles, offering what little comfort they could to each other. Gerry's searching eyes swept over the lobby as he trembled with anxiety, worry, and fear. He found Isabelle's mother sitting in a chair, with tears streaming down her pretty face and a handkerchief waded tightly in her hands. Coach Yoast and Sheryl sat on her other side, quietly trying to console her with a cup of tea. A man that Gerry had never seen before was seated only a chair away from Mrs. Brooke, his lips pursed tightly with distress and his limbs frozen with tension. He looked out of sorts with his bushy creased eyebrows and deep worry wrinkles carving out his tanned face. His eyes, however, portrayed no emotion as he seemed to be lost in a world of his own.  
Gerry stood still and stared at the people before him, as his teammates suddenly appeared at his side; Rev, Ronnie, Petey, Louie, Blue, and Alan. Their faces were all somber, and their shoulders were all sagged, the light in their eyes from that evening's celebration had long gone, only to be replaced with the sadness of that night's incident.   
"How is she? What happened?" Gerry asked shakily, his arms hanging limp at his sides. Ronnie stepped up a little and took a deep breath, trying to stabilize his emotions. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet to drown out his sniffling, as he concentrated on the checkered pattern of the tiled floor.  
"She was in a car accident," he began, "Isabelle was hit by a truck on the way to meet some of us." He gestured to himself, Rev, and Louie. His voice began to waver, "W-we were inside waiting for her, when there was a commotion outside." He stopped abruptly and swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "We went outside to see what was going on, and there was her car, all banged up."  
Gerry looked on, a shred of hope still dully glowing inside of him as he searched Ronnie's face for a deeper explanation. "How is she?" he repeated, his eyes lost and his voice trembling. "How is she? Is she really hurt?"  
Rev nodded and coughed, roughly brushing away a stray tear, casting his eyes on the floor. He traced the tiled pattern with his shoe along with Ronnie, and didn't say anything for a moment. He knew that he would break down as soon as he opened his mouth if he didn't steady himself. Rev jammed his hands in his pockets and meekly looked up at his anguished friend. "I'm sorry, Gerry. Isabelle is in a coma."  
He blinked and stumbled back a bit from the shock as he shook his head in response. The room around him tipped to the side a little and the air in the stuffy room hugged him tightly, suffocating him.   
"No. No, this can't be happening!" His agonized face crumpled, but he held back his tears. Ignoring his friends' attempts to comfort him, he pushed them away and turned around only to come back to the same sad picture of Isabelle's heartbroken mother. He decided to go to her to give what little support he could muster, and he gathered enough strength to keep himself from crying. He sat next to her and gave her a hug, trying to stay positive for her. He felt a heavy weight press down on his shoulders and the room suddenly seemed to grow smaller. He stood up and began to walk away, when Coach Yoast took hold of his elbow. He looked Gerry straight in the eye and said,  
"You okay, Gerry? From what I gather, you and Isabelle were close."  
Gerry stood motionless when the mysterious man suddenly blew up with an explosion of anger, as he leapt from his seat and threw an accusing finger at Mrs. Brooke. Gerry jumped back in surprise and watched the man's face contort with fury and turn pink as veins protruded from his neck and forehead. His loosened tie swung wildly as his arms gestured violently.  
"See, Evelyn," he shouted, "Isabelle isn't safe here! She is coming to California with me and that's it!"   
Mrs. Brooke retaliated. "And what are you going to do, fly her out there while she's unconscious?! For God's sakes, John, our daughter is in a coma and she might not even wake up! Having her move with you is what's on your mind?!" She shook her head at him, her puffy eyes furious at him. "You don't care about Isabelle at all, don't you? You just want to win this stupid game that you've invented in your head of trying to gain anything and everything from this divorce! You'd rather see your only child miserable and held against her will, so you can win." She glared back at her ex-husband before storming out of the room towards the exit doors, muttering something about wanting to be alone.   
Gerry turned around; with his own heavy emotions drowning him and smothering him; he couldn't take anymore drama and tension. He barreled through his friends, ignoring their attempts of comfort once again, and blindly walked down the lobby looking for Isabelle's room. He hated hospitals and for all the death and suffering it held within its walls. To think that someone dear and near to him had wound up in one of these facilities, made him hate it even more. He walked aimlessly past room after room, his mind enveloped with his thoughts when something caught his eye. There, on the clipboard hanging next to a door, was the name "Isabelle Brooke" boldly scrawled at the top.   
Gerry stopped dead in his tracks and slowly approached the room. He swallowed, almost afraid to see her condition. Cautiously, he peaked into the room and then suddenly grasped onto the doorknob for support. Isabelle laid on the bed, motionless. There were tubes and machines hooked onto her body, filling the cold, hollow room with different noises and sounds.   
God, please, no, he thought, this can't be happening. Not to her, not to her. The light harshly glared down on her injured frame where bandages covered the cuts and scratches all over her body, and a white sling cradled her left arm. He was dimly aware that he wasn't aloud to see her; only her immediate family, but at that point he could have cared less if the U.S. Army charged at him and ordered him to turn around; nothing was going to stop him from seeing her. He slipped into her room quietly.  
Gerry felt a huge wave of different emotions crashing down on him; fear, worry, guilt. What if I never get to tell her I'm sorry for what I did? he thought remorsefully. He recalled the last thing he said to her and shuddered with shame. How could I turn her away? I'd give up being captain in a heartbeat if it'd bring her back.  
He softly closed the door behind him and slowly approached her, pulling up a chair next to her still body. He tried desperately to hold back his tears as he looked up into her unconscious face. He reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from her face and gently touched her cheek, taking a deep breath, hoping not to break down right then and there.  
"Oh, Isabelle," he whispered. "You. . . you can't be hurt. You gotta wake up—soon." He kept on fighting down the tears, as he talked to her, but watched as his words fell on deaf ears. He bent his head down and let a tear slide down his cheek. "Please, don't leave me. You've got so much ahead of you. There's so much I have to tell you. Please, Isabelle, don't give up. You can't. I need you."  
  



	10. Chapter 10

Hi! Remember me? I'm baaack! Okay, sorry it's been a long time since I've last posted (assuming I've been missed...). Just hope you enjoy what I've written. :)  
  
Chapter 10  
  
"Man, where were you? Ain't nobody seen you all weekend," Julius exclaimed on Monday morning. He looked at his best friend and saw his broad shoulders sag, his short hair disheveled, and his lips pursed together with anxiety. Gerry slammed his car door shut, and turned to face Julius, the lines of sleepless nights hugging Gerry's usually bright eyes.  
"Yeah, ain't nobody seen you, 'cept for when we visited Isabelle at the hospital," Petey agreed. He clapped a sympathetic hand on Gerry's shoulder. "You been out doin' some thinkin'?"  
Gerry shook his head and locked his door. "No, I've been at the hospital with her. I stayed with her during visiting hours, and her mom and dad went home to take a shower, sleep, eat, and do whatever for a few hours. Hospital wouldn't let me stay after hours, so. . . that's when I left."  
"How is she doing?"   
He shrugged and started walking towards the school, and Julius and Petey followed. "She's doing all right, I guess." He looked away and sniffled quietly. "But, she just won't wake up."  
"Well, at least she'll be stayin' put and not moving to California." Petey instantly regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth and Julius smacked him upside the head and glared at him. Petey glanced at Gerry, who looked like a little lost puppy and immediately apologized, "Oh, God, I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean for it to come out like that, I swear!"  
Gerry held up his hand and nodded. "I know, Petey, I know." He kept walking, and Julius and Petey split up to walk on either side of him. "But, you know, I overheard her parents talking about the whole custody thing. You heard what Mrs. Brooke told him that night, right? It made him think and he apologized for his behavior. He really does love Isabelle, he just doesn't show it that well." He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and looked around him.  
The colder weather of mid-autumn had settled upon Alexandria and jackets and parkas were out and about. The sky was a bright, vivid blue, with little gray clouds dotting the sky. Students poured all around the leaf covered campus, and the once luscious trees were practically bare. The early morning sun shone softly down on them and the cool, crisp breeze blew past them. Gerry scratched his head and took a deep breath.   
"Mr. Brooke said that he would leave Mrs. Brooke and Isabelle alone, so long as she'd come visit him every now and then in California."  
  
"Bertier seems out of it," Boone stated later that week, as he and Yoast adjourned that day's practice. He tucked his clipboard under his arm and the two men briskly walked back to their office.  
"Don't blame him," Yoast responded, watching Sheryl skip ahead with the bag of footballs. "I been to the hospital and the Brookes' to visit Evelyn and Isabelle and she's been tellin' me that Gerry's at Isabelle's side during all visiting hours on the weekend, and right after practice during the weekday. I'm guessin', he comes home late, does his homework, and then comes to school the next day. Poor boy's worn out."  
"He visits her everyday? What about the rest of the guys?"  
"Evelyn told me that they visit her with Gerry every now and then, but they don't stick around as long as he does."  
"Really. . ." Boone mused. "I never thought those two were that close."  
"I never thought it either, Herman." He sighed as they approached their office, and Coach Yoast opened the door and stepped aside to usher Coach Boone and Sherly inside. "You have to admit though, Gerry's been doing a great job out on the field." He paused a moment. "Just like we wanted him to."   
  
Later that week, Gerry came by the hospital after practice, just as usual. He had a few more presents for her tucked under his arm, that people from school had asked him to give to Isabelle. He caught his reflection before entering her room, and wiped a smudge of dirt off his face from football practice that day. Gerry quietly turned the knob of the door and entered the room. Her parents gathered their things, spoke a few words to him, and Mrs. Brooke slowly and reluctantly left her daughter's side.  
"Why do you do this?" Mr. Brooke asked Gerry, before he left. He was touched by this young man's behavior, and it made him wonder why he would give up his evenings for Isabelle. Mr. Brooke was very much ashamed that someone who knew Isabelle for barely a month would spend every spare moment at her side, when he hardly gave his own daughter the time of day back in California.  
"Do what?" Gerry asked, confused, as he arranged Isabelle's new gifts in her already overflowing room.  
Mr. Brooke gestured to the sleeping girl. "This. Come here everyday after a hard day at school and spend all this time with her."   
He shrugged and heaved a breath of air, pausing a moment to look at Isabelle. "I care a lot about her, Mr. Brooke. There ain't much to it, really. I just care about her a lot."  
Mr. Brooke nodded distractedly and seemed lost in his own world; something that Gerry's noted him to do quite frequently. Unaware that Mr. Brooke had soon left, Gerry looked slowly around the room; the tables were overflowing with big bouquets of flowers and bunches of floating balloons, piles of stuffed animals were heaped by her night stand , get well cards and letters were stacked at the foot of her bed, and corners were filled with fruit and gift baskets. The dull walls of her room were now drowned out by the bright colors and patterns of all her get-well presents and the sterilized scent that used to hang above like a rain cloud, was wafted away by the sweet aromas of the fruit and the fragrant perfumes of her flowers.   
"I wonder," he thought aloud, sitting down in a chair next to her, "what's going on in your head right now? Do you have dreams?" He grinned at her peaceful, sleeping face. Her scratches and bruises were rapidly fading away, and her cuts were healing without a trace. The swelling around her eye was down and gone, and the doctor said that the two fractured bones in her hand would be perfectly fine in the next few days. He leaned over and pulled a large card out from his backpack and opened it up.   
"The guys wrote you little messages," he said. "Here, this one is from Petey. . ."  
". . . and this one is from Julius. . ."  
". . . this one is from Blue. . ."  
". . . and Louie. . ."  
". . . and this lengthy one with the little surfboard is from Sunshine," Gerry laughed, as he started reading the message.  
". . . and this one is from me. . ."  
Gerry froze and felt the hairs on his neck perk up and he slowly looked at Isabelle as she moved her head a little. Her hand twitched, as if she were looking for someone and Gerry slowly took it. He was caught up in a confusing tornado of emotions; he knew he should go get a nurse or a doctor, but at the same time, he didn't want to leave her side. He stood up and bent over her, as Isabelle's lips began moving.   
He felt a rush of relief and joy sweep over him, as he attempted to say something to her. "Isabelle! Isabelle, it's me; Gerry." He stared down at her and watched as she slowly opened her eyes. She squinted at the bright lighting and blinked a few times until the blurred images became clear. As she regained consciousness, Isabelle could feel the pain starting to trickle into her limbs from her injuries and she winced.  
"Where am I? What's going on? What happened?" She looked up into his familiar face and she smiled and softly uttered his name, then watched as his grin twitched and then fade away to sadness. "What happened?"  
"You were in a car accident almost a week ago," he began. "It was a really bad wreck."  
"Almost a week ago?" He looked down into her frightened, confused eyes and almost didn't want to tell her what had happened. He wanted to avoid that awful memory at all costs.  
"Isabelle, you've been in a coma."  
"A coma?" She turned her head away, shocked, and let the news sink as she looked out the window where the big trees stood tall in the pink and orange sky as the sun was started to set. She longed to be with the calmness and peacefulness of what she was staring at; there was just too much drama going on in her life right now-a brush with death was the last thing she had needed. Isabelle turned her head back to Gerry and looked up into his warm brown eyes. "Why are you here?" she asked. "I thought you were mad at me."  
"That ain't important anymore," he said gently. "What's important is you and that you're awake now. Any fight between us is forgotten now, I hope." He smiled and kissed the top of her forehead. He peered into her fuzzy brown eyes as she still tried to gain some sort of order in her mind. Her thoughts buzzed with confusion and emotions tumbled onto her from all sorts of directions as her thoughts of what Gerry told her spun in a vicious whirlwind ; it was all a little much for her to take in. "I'm going to go find your doctor, all right? You gonna be okay here by yourself for a minute?"  
"You'll come back, though, right?"  
He smiled affectionately and touched her cheek, "Of course." He left her room and quickly went in search of her doctor. As he sped down the brightly lit white tiles of the beige colored hallways, past machines and nurses and doctors, Gerry started to realize just how short life was. He was aware of the saying and it's truth, but it never quite sunk into his mind like it did now. He looked up and spotted the familiar gray-haired doctor that attended to Isabelle down the hall, and quickened his step to catch up with him. Life's too short to wait around and think and act confused about your feelings, he thought. You know what you feel and you gotta go with it. And it's about time I take my own advice. 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11  
  
"I assume you prayed for me?" Isabelle teased Rev.   
She was back at school a few days later, and despite her fading cuts, she looked good as new. When she found out how her parents had resolved their problems and that she didn't have to move to California, her recovery went by even more quickly than expected. Especially when her father offered to get her a new car. For now, though, Isabelle teased Gerry about being her temporary chauffeur because he had insisted on driving her to school while she still couldn't drive.   
"Every minute of every day," Rev assured with a smile. Suddenly, Ronnie ran up behind her, grabbed her shoulders and turned her to him.  
"You're back!" he exclaimed, hugging her and twirling her in the air. He set her back down and felt a sense of comfort when he looked into her glittering-and alive-brown eyes.  
"Yes, I am," she laughed and winked, "can't say that I missed you though." The warning bell shrilled throughout the building and echoed to the grounds outside, but the little group near the door lingered for moment to gather their things.  
"Well, we better get going," Rev suggested, linking his arm through Isabelle's. She nodded in agreement and let Rev steer her towards the building.   
"Tata, kiddies!" she called over her shoulder. She and Rev walked into the school and through the dispersing crowds of students and teachers in quiet solitude as much of the student body ran up to her to greet her a well recovery.   
"You're quite popular nowadays," he joked after someone they didn't even know had approached Isabelle. She nodded earnestly and wiggled her eyebrows. Her silly smile slowly slipped away into a wry grin.  
"I promise I won't ruin the celebration again when you guys win state." She paused. "But, you gotta win first, you see, so I'm not making any promises."  
Rev laughed and nudged her. "Don't say that. Trust me, when the guys heard about what happened to you, they didn't even seem to care about football anymore. Especially Gerry-and when that boy forgets about football, then you know that something-or someone-is important." He looked down at her blushing face; she was obviously flattered by what he just said. "He really cares about you. Don't let what he did mislead you otherwise," he added.  
"Huh?"  
"The little fight between you two. You were distracting him from the team too much," he explained, "he would've lost his captain position if he hadn't regained his focus and concentration. Gerry freaked out and that's probably why he took drastic measures in trying to get everything back on track. He hated ignoring you, believe me, but he felt that there was no other alternative in trying to temporarily erase you from his memory."  
She laughed softly to herself and shook her head. "Imagine that. . ."  
  
"Where's Emma?"   
It was lunch time at T.C. Williams, as Isabelle looked up from her seat to where Gerry was standing behind her. Since the weather gotten colder, all the students were crammed into the noisy, rambunctious cafeteria. The brown and cream room was lined with long tables in neat rows, with the lunch lines on one side and the vending machines on the other. It was a warm, stuffy room with the ovens in the kitchen going, the school's heating system on high, and the hundreds of bodies stuffed in the small area. A trace of that afternoon's lunch lingered in the air: soggy string beans, and mushy chicken nuggets.   
Isabelle scooted over on the bench and patted the space for him to sit down. She looked around her table at the uneasy faces and then at Gerry's wry expression. She looked up at him questioningly as he answered  
"We broke up after the game."  
Her jaw dropped in shock. "Oh, Gerry, I'm sorry," she exclaimed. "How'd it go? How'd you do it?"   
Gerry dropped his books on the floor, and kicked them under his seat before throwing his brown paper bagged lunch onto the table. He straddled the bench facing Isabelle, and started on his lunch, all the while avoiding her eyes. "It didn't go so bad, actually. We kind of both mutually agreed that the relationship wasn't going anywhere; the feeling wasn't there anymore. She and I agreed that we should break it off while we still wanna be friends."  
"Oh, yeah. Well, I'm glad that you two are still friends." When they noticed that the rest of their friends were trying to ignore them by holding up their own discussion, Gerry and Isabelle tuned in on the current conversation at the table-football, naturally-when a dark shadow fell on Isabelle. She turned around and found Ray standing before her.  
"Hey, Isabelle," he started, his voice obviously showing how uncomfortable he was. He glanced at her companions and was more than aware of their penetrating death stares; the hostilities between Ray and the team still hadn't been resolved. They stopped eating, putting their food down and setting aside their drinks, waiting to hear what their former teammate had to say now. The stuffiness of the cafeteria seemed to choke Ray up as no words were coming out of his mouth. He didn't know why he was suddenly feeling nervous around them; it's not like he had before. Perhaps, it was because nobody seemed to be on his side anymore. Gerry had left him when they fought after their game with Groveton, and Isabelle had ignored him since their spat in the parking lot.   
Ray slowly met Gerry's hard stare as he said, "Well? What is it?"  
Isabelle elbowed Gerry and smiled up at Ray. "Is there something on your mind, Ray?"  
He took a deep breath and quickly said, "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for what went on between us and that I'm glad you got better."  
"Thanks," she said sincerely. When he turned to walk away, Isabelle smiled at her friends. They all seemed curious as to why she was being so friendly to someone who they didn't like. They couldn't possibly see what reason she had to be nice to Ray, and they stared at her, awaiting an answer. She simply grinned and said, "Okay, so you guys were explaining to me about this line of scrimmage thing. . ."  
  
"So, you're the famous Isabelle Brooke. You've been causing quite a stir among my boys lately," Coach Boone smiled, shaking her hand. She laughed, partially at the coach's remark and at Sheryl who was standing before her, screaming up a passion at the team as they practiced. Isabelle had trekked from the school library to the football field, and decided to say hello to the coaches and Sheryl, while the team was finishing their water break and starting to meet in a huddle. Her cheeks were rosy and her nose was pink from her frigid stroll, and she buried her hands in her navy wool jacket and tightened her colorful scarf.  
"And you must be the Coach Boone I've heard so much about. Nice to meet you."  
He nodded at her and excused himself to turn to his team, as Coach Yoast spoke up. "How are you feeling, Isabelle?"  
"Great," she beamed. "My wrist is a little sore, as well as a few scratches and bruises, but I'm fine." She smiled at him and added, "I just want to tell you that I really appreciate that you were with my mom through this whole mess. It means a lot to me that you care." Coach Yoast smiled at her, and then swiftly turned his eyes back on the team as he said,  
"Well, your mother's a good friend of mine."  
Isabelle stood quietly with Sheryl, and felt slightly awkward; as if she were imposing on them. She slipped back to the bleachers next to the field and climbed up to sit down to watch her friends throughout the remainder of practice. She picked out Gerry from the line up and saw him stand up a bit to wave to her. She laughed and waved back. Well, I guess, she thought, being good friends with the guy that you're in love with is better than nothing at all. Wait. In love? Brooke, are you nuts? She knit her eyebrows together and rubbed her hands for extra warmth. "You just got out of a coma; you're still not back 100%," she reasoned with herself. Besides, she thought, it's not like anything'll actually happen.  
"Bertier, quit showin' off and play football!" Coach Boone's thundering voice echoed through the stadium as Isabelle was hurled out of her daydream and back onto the football field. She smiled inwardly as Gerry apologized heatedly and returned to his position.   
"Well," she murmured, "it can't hurt too much to think your friend looks real good-especially in a uniform."  
  
"Aw, you ain't gotta show off for Isabelle," Julius teased his friend. Practice had just ended and as the rest of the team hustled into the locker rooms, Gerry and a few of his friends headed towards the bleachers where Isabelle was impatiently waiting for them. They took their time getting to the edge of the field, with their helmets swinging in their hands. Grass and mud caked their white practice uniforms, and dirt was smudged on their faces and hands and legs. With the cool night air settled upon Alexandria, their perspiration soaked bodies were starting to dry off, with only a thin film left for the setting sun to glint off of.   
"Yeah, tryin' to look all tough for her," Blue said with a smile, nudging his friend. Gerry raised an eyebrow and shoved him back, sending his friend tumbling down. A little humiliated, Blue popped right back up with a huff, and indignantly pretended to brush his uniform off. "See? You still tryin' to show off for Isabelle."  
Gerry scratched his head and looked down, a small smile on his face. "Ha, ha, very funny, fellas. Can't a guy mess up at practice once in a while?"  
"Sure," Julius agreed, "it's just a little suspicious that you, Mr. High and Mighty Perfectionist, happen to screw up when a certain girl comes to practice." He pointedly looked up ahead to where Isabelle was yelling in vain for them to quicken their pace.   
Gerry playfully shoved his friend. "Don't even go there."  
"Yeah," Sunshine smiled, putting an arm around Gerry, "he's mine."  
A round of laughter went around as they approached the bleachers. Isabelle stood up on one of the risers, and greeted them, "Took you guys long enough to get here. I could've baked seven pies in the time it took you to get here."   
"Oh, we're here now," Petey smiled. "So, what brings you out here to our frosty domain? You must be pretty cold by now."   
"I am! But, Gerry asked me to meet him here after practice." She caught the band of athletes share knowing looks amongst each other and then smile mischievously at Gerry.   
"Oh, okay. We'll see you guys later." Petey winked at Gerry before turning around to accompany his teammates to the locker room. As they left, Gerry took a few steps closer to Isabelle and smiled at her.  
"Sorry about that," he apologized. He watched her hop down the bleachers and took her hand to help her as she jumped to the ground.  
Isabelle laughed and dusted her pants off. "Thanks. But, why don't you go to the lockers first and clean up? I don't know if I can take you too seriously when you're covered in mud and you smell. I'll wait until you're finished and then you can tell me what ever your heart desires."   
"Don't you have to be home?" he asked, as they walked over bare mud patches of the lumpy, bumpy football field. "It's getting pretty late."  
She shrugged, and stuck her hands in her jacket pockets. "I don't have to. Mom's not home right now, but I've got a test to study for. Don't worry; it's all right, I want to know what's on your mind."  
He grinned down at her as they approached the locker room doors. "Thanks. I'll be out in a bit; I won't take too long. Meet me by my car, all right?" When he disappeared behind the solid wood doors, Isabelle pivoted on her heel and started walking to the parking lot.  
She strolled along in complete solitude and took in a breath of the crisp air, grateful that she was alive to savor a clear night like this one. She was grateful that she could still laugh and talk with her friends, that she could stay in Alexandria, and that she was starting to find her place, here in a once strange world that had now become her home. Isabelle smiled with relief, glad that she found friends here. If she was miserable in Alexandria because she had no friends, and was given the option of going back to the familiar residence of California, Isabelle admitted that she would be very tempted to return, no matter how horrible her friends had been. At least she wouldn't have to start from scratch. Thank goodness it all worked out perfectly in the end, she thought.  
Or did it? Despite his good intentions and her feelings for him, Gerry Bertier had created quiet a soap opera within her thoughts. He was a guy unlike any other she had met; he was so sweet, and smart, and funny, and they had so much in common. He was pretty darn cute, too, she recalled wistfully, when she first met him at the party. But, nothing was perfect. He more than caused a little drama here and there, but Isabelle still couldn't help but be drawn to him, and the fact that he had a girlfriend didn't stop a wonderful friendship from blossoming.  
Of course the other guys were a huge part of the picture; especially Rev and Ronnie. She had developed a special sort of friendship with the two quarterbacks. Rev was the first person to reach a friendly hand out to her and Ronnie was quick to befriend his fellow Californian. Isabelle laughed when she thought of Julius, Petey, Alan, Blue, Louie; they were characters all right. No, she couldn't ever leave them and Alexandria to go back to Los Angeles.  
Isabelle reached the parking lot and soon spotted Gerry coming from the opposite side, heading towards his Camaro, his belongings slung over his shoulder. He seemed lost in his thoughts as he distractedly unlocked his door and threw his things into the backseat.   
Whatever he has to tell me must be important, Isabelle thought, quickening her pace. Maybe. . . I dunno, maybe it'll be good news.  
  
"Look at you, all fresh and clean!"  
Gerry grinned when he saw Isabelle approach him, her cheeks rosy from the cold. Overall, she seemed good as new from the accident, with only faint traces of bruising and cuts left behind. But, with the magic of make up, all that was reduced to a flawless complexion. Her once subdued chocolate eyes returned to their glittering glory as she gazed up at him, and he couldn't help but notice his racing heart and the knots in his stomach that were multiplying like mad. He wasn't even this nervous before a game, and here he was, just talking to Isabelle, about to go crazy with all the butterflies rushing around inside of him and the pounding in his chest.  
He relentlessly thought and rehearsed what he was going to do and say that night, but he couldn't even recollect the slightest word he planned right now. His mind went blank and his head felt fuzzy, when he saw Julius wave to him from his car. He waved back and was shaken from his frenzied thoughts as he looked around the almost bare parking lot. The Coaches' cars and trucks were still there, sitting in a neat little row, not far from their offices.  
Do it, Gerry ordered himself. Don't think, just go with it. Isabelle's not cruel; she won't be harsh about it if she doesn't feel the same way. He opened his mouth and stopped, hesitating. If you don't do it now, you'll lose all your nerve, never try again, and you'll never know anything. You owe it to yourself to at least find out if. . . if she could ever return your feelings.  
"Are you all right, Gerry?" Isabelle asked, searching his jumpy, nervous eyes. He nodded briskly and took a deep breath, as his heartbeat seemed to roar in his ears. I'm going have a heart attack before sound even comes out of my mouth, he thought.  
"Isabelle, " he started slowly, hoping to gather courage along with momentum. "There's something that I have to tell you and if I don't do it, I'll probably regret it." She stared at him curiously and nodded for him to go on. "Do you remember that first night we met?" She nodded again. "Remember the next day when you accused me of leading you on?" A nod. Okay, Bertier, here we are. This is it; don't blow it. He took in another deep breath and looked away when he said, "Well, I wasn't leading you on." He looked down into her slightly confused face.  
"You weren't?" she asked. "I don't understand."  
All the panic and apprehension that was built up inside of him, suddenly and surprisingly melted slowly away as he smiled softly at her, his eyes warm and hopeful. He said gently, "I've had feelings for you since the day I met you. I don't know why I tried to hide them and I'm sorry I did. I thought that we could just be friends, but after what happened, I can't accept that anymore. My feelings for you run deeper than that."  
He saw her eyes crinkle in the moonlight and a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. Just by the look on her face, Gerry could tell that she felt the same way.  
He put his arms around her waist and felt a warm, tingling feeling settle upon his entire body. He hadn't fully realized what an impact Isabelle would have on him, until her smiling face seemed to make his world little bit brighter and a little bit better; he was ecstatic.  
Isabelle felt like she was dreaming and half expected Gerry to stop the charade and say it was all a gag, or for her mother's voice to filter into her dream, commanding Isabelle to wake up and that she was late for school. None of these things happened and the only words that were spoken to her were the words Gerry spoke, telling her how he felt.  
"You don't know how happy it makes me to hear you say those words," she whispered. Her arms slid up around his neck as he bent down and softly rested his lips on hers in a sweet kiss that they've waited for, for so long.  
  
"Daddy, look! Look!" Sheryl exclaimed, as she perched on a chair and stared out the window of her father's office. A big smile spread over her face as she excitedly called for her father's attention. "Look, Daddy!"  
"Not now, Sheryl," he said distractedly, as he continued to absorb himself in his paperwork.   
"Daddy," she said calmly, yet impatiently. "Please, *just look*!" She glanced over at where Coach Boone was drowning himself in watching old tapes of their games and taking notes. "You better have a look, too, Coach Boone," she added.  
Distractedly, he turned off the television and joined Coach Yoast as they walked to the window to see what was so blessed important. They looked out and their jaws dropped wide with shock, and saw Gerry and Isabelle wrapped tightly in each other's arms, kissing in the moonlit parking lot.  
"Well, I'll be damned," Coach Boone murmured.  
Coach Yoast was still speechless.  
Sheryl smiled to herself and said, "Well, it's about time." 


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12  
"So, Emma hasn't said anything about Gerry and Isabelle getting together?" Alan questioned one morning. He, Louie, and Rev were gathered at Petey's locker at school, waiting for him so they could leave to meet Julius, Gerry, and Isabelle at Gerry's locker.  
"Not in the couple weeks they've started going out," Rev replied.   
Alan nodded. "And Ray?"  
"Oh," Petey said, his voice tainted with disdain. "I wouldn't believe a word out of his mouth, so it don't matter."  
Rev wrinkled his forehead with suspicion. "What are you getting at, Alan? Is there something that we don't know that we should know?"  
Petey shut his locker firmly and began to lead them down the hallway to the staircase. Amidst the thickly crowded halls, they wove themselves among the sea of bodies. When they approached the less condensed stairwell, Rev repeated his question. He had a feeling that there was something floating around school that would disrupt the happiness of the new couple. And given the two suspects, his gut told him that the latter was responsible for anything harmful.  
Alan began, "Ray was pretty burned when Isabelle left him, and got even more upset when he found out that Gerry took his place."  
They exited the stairwell onto the floor with Gerry and Isabelle's lockers were, and were silently relieved that it was not as crowded as the previous level. In fact, the population down there was quite sparse.   
"Well, whatever it is, it would have to be monumental to upset those two," Louie interrupted, nodding ahead.  
They looked up to find Gerry standing by his locker with his arms around Isabelle. She was pressed up against the wall, with his head bent low as he whispered something in her ear that made her smile widely. Her arms tightened around his neck as she kissed his cheek. He pulled back a little, with a delighted sparkle in his eye, and then leaned back in to kiss her softly. By the time Alan, Rev, Louie, and Petey reached them, they were still attached at the mouth.   
"The only thing that I heard," Alan murmured to them, "was from Emma. And from what I gathered, there might be some trouble brewing."  
  
"Okay, I know my mom's out of town on a business trip, but I think I should be getting home. . ."   
Isabelle laughed. "Do my ears hear correctly? Mr. Gerry Bertier nervous about getting home?"  
He blushed and kissed her forehead. "No, seriously, Isabelle. What was so important that you called me up at eleven to rush over here?"  
The pair walked down the street, their hands entwined between them, as autumn's fleeting night breeze settled in Alexandria. She leaned her head on his arm and said innocently, "Aren't I important enough?"  
"Hmm, not really."  
She laughed and smiled up at him. "Well, then I guess the feeling's mutual, huh?" She patted his firm stomach and said, "Don't look so distressed. It's only a Friday night."  
They continued walking in the street lamp lit sidewalk, while Gerry defended himself, arguing that he was just tired from football practice and not that he didn't want to upset his mother.  
"There's nothing wrong with listening to your parents. I do it myself quite often." But, before he could edge in another word, she announced their arrival.  
He scrunched his eyebrows. "The football field? Why did you bring me here?"  
"Because you love it here so much," she answered, leading him up the bleachers.  
"Okay, but watch your step; it's dark."  
"Yeah, I know, Mr. Safety Patrol-whoa!" She missed a step and lost her balance, landing in Gerry's outstretched arms. "Nice reflexes."  
He laughed and continued to let her lead him to wherever she wished. Finally, after ten minutes of weaving and climbing on the cold, metallic benches, Isabelle selected the twentieth row in the middle section. They sat down next to each to each other, where she hooked her arm through his.   
"All right, now. Tell me what's up," Gerry demanded. He looked down at her mysterious face.  
"Don't tell me you forgot," she said. He returned her statement with a puzzled look. She smiled softly and held her left wrist out to him to look at her watch.   
"12:02," he read, slightly confused. He looked back at her smiling face, when she leaned in and kissed him.   
"Happy Birthday," she whispered. Immediately, the field lights flashed on and in the middle of the field, on a small table, was a small, circular cake.  
Gerry sat in shock for a moment. "My birthday? I completely forgot, I was so wrapped up in football and. . ." he paused. "Well, you." He grinned, when he heard a herd of footsteps storm down the bleachers from behind. They looked behind them to find all their friends dashing towards them.  
"Happy Birthday!" they were all yelling.   
"How in the world did y'all manage to pull this stunt?" he demanded, as he was shepherded down to his cake. He looked up at it, only to find his two coaches standing on either side, Coach Boone holding paper plates and Coach Yoast and Sheryl holding the cake cutter and forks.  
"When we realized your birthday was coming up and you didn't seem to have anything planned," Julius started, "Isabelle concocted this little scheme. She went to Yoast and Boone and asked them for their permission, and voila! Happy Birthday, Superman."  
Gerry beamed and looked at Isabelle. "This was all your doing?" She nodded proudly. "Thank you," he told her, kissing her nose.   
  
"I can't believe she did all that for me," Gerry told Julius over the phone later that day. "I've gotta do something big for hers."  
He heard his friend's familiar chuckle fill the line. "Well, don't worry, Gerry, you've still got a few months." He paused. "So, did you open your gifts yet?"  
"Oh, yeah! Hey, thanks for the records. I've been meaning to get them for a while now."  
"No problem. What'd Isabelle get you?"   
"A new sports bag. Mine was falling apart. She complained the stench was seeping out of the rips and holes. So, when I dropped her off at home this morning, I planted the old one in her car."   
Julius laughed aloud. "You two really care about each other, huh?" Silence. "Uh, Gerry?"  
"Huh? Oh, yeah?"  
"You two really care about each other, don't you?"  
"Yeah," Gerry sighed softly, "we care about each other." 


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13  
  
It was another blistering autumn night, but the entire T.C. Williams student body braced the cold air to cheer on their favorite Titans, as they gathered for one massive pep rally. The night began with a cook out in the school parking lot, followed by an assembly honoring the team and the coaches. But, it was after that, that the fun really began. In a little game of Titans Defense versus Titans Offense, the crowd roared with delight. The team that they were so used to seeing play with poise, precision, and aggression played with clumsiness and humor, pleasing their classmates with laughter.  
"Boy, that was some game, wasn't it, Emma?"  
Emma tore her intense gaze from the student-swarmed field to acknowledge her friend, Gladys. Emma nodded. "Yeah, it was."  
Gladys knit her eyebrows with confusion and turned toward the field, trying to pick out at what had held Emma's attention with such rapt. It didn't take her long to spy the twosome near the edge of the field, engaged in a deep conversation. She cast a sidelong glance at the blond beauty next to her and then back at Gerry and Isabelle. Though Emma had hidden her feelings well, Gladys wasn't one to be fooled. She had known her friend since they were kids, can could tell that being friends with her once-upon-a-time boyfriend was not enough for her. But, as she looked at Emma's unwavering blue eyes, she detected a hint of something she hadn't seen before; malice.  
"Uh, Em, are you all right? You look…well, possessed. If you really want to go catch that late movie, we will--just don't look so-"  
"It's not about the movie," she interrupted. She sighed sadly and plopped back down on the cold bench she had just vacated. "I should be the one down there with him. I should be the one holding his hand. I should be the one waiting by his car to go out somewhere while he's in the locker room." She paused. "Not her. I don't get it! What made him pick her over me?! What don't I have that she does?" She gazed longingly at Gerry and swallowed hard. But, her eyes shifted over to Isabelle and she slowly narrowed her icy blue eyes.   
"Well, what are you going to-" Gladys started, almost afraid to hear what she had to say.  
"I'm going to get him back," she stated with defiance, looking Gladys in the eye. "If it's the last thing I do, I'll get him back."  
Gladys looked back down at the happy couple and raised an eyebrow. Their once deep conversation had turned into a full blown argument and now Gerry was storming off the field, leaving Isabelle standing alone in dismay.  
"Well, Miss Hoyt. I'd have to say now is the perfect time to go in for the kill."  
But, before she could finish her sentence, Emma was already flying down the bleachers heading straight for, not Gerry, but Isabelle.  
  
"Couldn't handle it, could you?"  
Isabelle reeled around to face the mocking voice that was directed at her. Emma. In a way, she expected it from her; being tied to Gerry for so long, naturally, she'd feel resentment. But, in a way, she didn't. Emma seemed nice and more mature than to say what she just did.  
"Excuse me?"  
Emma smirked. "You couldn't handle being Gerry's girlfriend, could you? Or no, maybe it's just because you two don't belong together. Or maybe it's just what you get for stealing my boyfriend away from me."  
"WHAT?!"  
"You heard me loud and clear, Isabelle. You just wriggled yourself and your damn Californian ways into Gerry's affection, leaving no room for me. Ain't it so?"  
"What the hell are you talking about?! I didn't steal Gerry away from you! And please explain to me what you mean about not being able to handle Gerry! Because, I do not HANDLE Gerry; he's his own person, with his own mind to follow."  
"Figures you'd say something like that. I just mean, well, since you guys just broke up-"  
Isabelle rolled her dark eyes and sighed with exasperation. "We did not break up, for your information and--you know what? I've got better things to do with my time. Good BYE, Emma."  
As Isabelle fumed off the field, Emma watched her retreating back with a look of mischief upon her face. "Oh, I can fix that little 'we did not break up' bit. I can fix it no problem."  
  
"Well, Gerry, she really didn't have a say in the matter," Rev pointed out gently. He watched his friend stand in front of his locker, his forehead wrinkling with frustration, his hands balling up with anger, and his jaw clenching with fury.  
"Yes, she did, and she still does!" he yelled back. "But, she just won't take a stand!"  
"Whoa, what's all the yelling for?"   
Gerry turned around to see Ronnie return from the showers, clueless as to what had Gerry so uptight.   
"It's Isabelle," he muttered back. "She ain't comin' to state." He looked at Ronnie's questioning eyes. "Well? Aren't you mad, too?"  
He shook his head. "Sure, I'm a little disappointed, because she's one of my best friends, but I'm not going to be mad-how can I if I don't know WHY she's not coming?"  
Isabelle had known for a while that she wasn't going to be able to make Gerry's game, but it scared her so much to tell him, that she had postponed the inevitable until the day before the game; the night of the pep rally. When he had exploded at her news, she had tried to explain to him that she had to go back to California on account of a promise she made to her dad. When he was in Alexandria that last time, he agreed to let her stay in Virginia with her mother, so long as she visited him when he asked. No questions asked. Desperate to remain in Alexandria, she hastily accepted his bargain, failing to realize that his demands would conflict with her own life. But, despite her mistake, she wouldn't back down from a promise-a trait in herself she took pride in.  
"And that's why she won't back down on her promise, and why she' ain't comin' to state."  
"Well," Ronnie ventured, attempting to defend his friend, "I can see why you're mad. But, just keep in mind, that she's just as upset as you are."  
  
"Maybe he's right," Isabelle countered, staring into the rest of her strawberry milkshake. She was perched at the counter of a local ice cream parlor, drowning her sorrows in her dessert and talking to the owner of the store. The parlor was still lit, even though it was past closing hours, but Mr. Owens couldn't deny her tear filled eyes and happily whipped up her strawberry shake.   
"And what makes you say so, dear?" he asked. Isabelle looked up and smiled. He reminded her of a grandfatherly figure, with his gentle eyes, soft voice, and humbleness. His white hair was combed behind a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, and his nose sometimes twitched from the whiskers beneath it.   
"Because my dad's never really been there for me. He's never kept a promise to me-maybe that's why I'm so focused on keeping my promise-while Gerry's always been there for me. Well, except for this one little time. But, I owe it more to him than I do to my dad. Therefore, I should pick his game over my visit, right? Oh, I don't know! I'm so confused."  
Mr. Owens, took the empty from Isabelle and wiped the little circle of condensation. "Why are you confused? It sounds to me that you already know what you need to do."  
  
"Maybe she's right," Gerry said aloud. He was alone in his car, on his way home, too tired to continue on with the party on the field with his teammates and classmates. As he scanned the intersection to make a turn, he caught sight of the new sports bag Isabelle had given him. She had had his name and number stitched onto the side.  
"I mean, if something's this important to Isabelle, I should understand that. She's been supportive of me throughout the entire season, and like Sunshine said, she really didn't have a say in whether or not she could go."  
As he pulled up into his driveway, he thought back to when Isabelle first told him. He cringed when he remembered his reaction. He was flat out outraged. He yelled and argued with her, while she tried so hard to explain to him her side of the story. He winced even more when he thought of her crushed face. Even if she was wrong to not stand up to her father, like she had so many times before, Gerry knew that did not reserve him to right to treat her the way he did.  
He slammed his car door shut and hauled his lumpy sports bag to his house, where he dumped it on the floor in his room. Then, on his way out, he passed his mother's room. Mrs. Bertier was getting ready for bed, when her son knocked and entered her room.  
"Did you have fun, Gerry?" she asked, smiling at him.   
"I did, Ma, I did."  
She looked up at her son inquisitively. His serious eyes and strong, definite features reminded her of his father. "Well, if you had such a great time, why do you look so down and why aren't you out with your friends?"  
He sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "I messed up, Ma, and I ain't-"  
"'And I AM NOT,' Gerry," she corrected gently. "But, continue."  
"I messed up, and I AM NOT proud of what I did, so I'm going to go fix it. I'll be back in about two hours, is that all right?"  
"Nothing illegal, dangerous, or immoral?"  
He laughed and bent over to kiss her cheek. "Not at all."  
After he left his mother's room, he bounded down the stairs, on his way to the door, hoping he would find Isabelle at home. But, as soon as he threw open the door, he was surprised to find Emma standing on his porch, her finger hovering over the doorbell.  
"Well, hey, Emma. What brings you here?" he asked, stepping out onto his porch.  
She looked down, and then up at him. "I heard about what happened between you and Isabelle. You looked pretty upset and I thought you might like a friend."  
He smiled widely. "Thanks for thinking of me, but what I need right now is to talk to Isabelle."   
Her face dropped a little. "Oh." Before he could get away, Emma grabbed his arm. "Gerry, I was thinking." He looked at her, his kind face prompting her to continue. "Maybe we rushed into this whole breaking up thing too fast. I still have feelings for you, Gerry. And maybe that fight you had with Isabelle was a sign: that you and I still belong together."  
"Emma…"  
"No, Gerry! I've always been there for you. I've always supported you at your games, I've always supported your busy schedule with football, and I've never caused any grief for you! Why did you pick her over me?"  
His warm brown eyes shined with affection for her, and Emma's heart swelled. "I know, Emma. You've been great, and I'll always love you-as a friend. But-"  
She moved closer to him. "Before you go try to patch things up with Isabelle, just remember. Remember how…we used to be." She pulled him down for a kiss, when she felt his hands try to push her away, and heard a car door slam shut.  
  
Prepared to apologize to Gerry, and break her promise with her father, Isabelle drove along Gerry's street. She finally approached his house and eyed an unfamiliar car. She cautiously turned off the ignition and stepped out, to see a clear view of Gerry and Emma engaged in a kiss. Furious, she violently slammed her door shut, and Gerry immediately pushed Emma away. He looked up, his face frozen with horror. He pushed past Emma and ran down his porch, towards the driveway, with Emma calling after him.  
"Isabelle, wait, it's not what it looks like!" he exclaimed.  
"Yeah, sure," Isabelle spat. "I came over to apologize and to tell you I changed my mind. But obviously, you've found another fan to take my place. Good bye, Gerry." Before he could reach her, Isabelle had gotten back into her car, and sped away into the dark. 


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14  
**Author's Note: Okay, if I sound like an idiot when I'm talking about the football part. . . ignore it. I, unfortunately, don't know much about this game, and so when it comes to technical stuff, I'm just talking out of my butt. Otherwise, enjoy! J  
  
"Oh, God, this is too much," Isabelle muttered, climbing out of the brand new used car she and her mother had just purchased. She slipped on her sunglasses in hopes of warding off the dauntingly extravagant red and white decorations that bathed the grounds of T.C. Williams High School. Signs of good luck and encouragement towards their state bound football team sickened Isabelle to the stomach, for it only brought her memories of that wretched night not so long ago. She trudged through the excited crowd and colorful garlands to get to her locker, desperately trying to avoid Gerry, who was standing right by his own locker.  
"Lord, if I can just make it through today without being eaten alive, I'll devote my life to you and become a nun," she murmured, as she spun the dial of her locker. Before she could even pop open the door, a dreadfully familiar voice came from behind her.   
"Why, is that a promise, Miss Isabelle?"  
She turned around to find Emma and Gladys; smug looks painting their pretty faces. Emma crossed her arms as a small smile tugged at her lips.   
"Shut up, Emma," she groaned, as she turned to face her locker. "If it's about Gerry, he's all yours as far as I'm concerned. Any guy who cheats on me, obviously doesn't care much about me. Therefore, I have no reason to stay in a relationship with him." Isabelle shut her locker before turning around again. "So, all right. Fine. You won. Now, will you leave me alone?"  
  
"Uh oh, looks like Emma's causing quite a stir over there," Alan said nervously, as he watched the two girls by Isabelle's locker. He glanced up at Gerry, who was busy pretending to look busy. Ever since that night, he just didn't know what to do with himself anymore-she was all he ever thought about.   
"Oh, Isabelle can hold her own. If anything, it would be Emma I'd be worried about," Julius assured.   
"But, I'm going to check it out anyway," Gerry said with finality, as he closed his locker and charged through the crowd. Just as Isabelle had left, he approached a triumphant Emma. "What's going on?"  
"Oh, hi, Gerry," Emma purred, sidling up to him. Damn, he smells good, she thought. And he's so nice and warm and strong. There ain't no way I'm losing him to Isabelle again.  
"Hey, Gerry," Gladys smiled, "Emma was just. . . having a little chat with Miss Brooke."  
He eyed the two girls suspiciously. "About what?"  
"Well, Ger," Emma started, slipping her arm around his waist, "I was just setting the record straight about you and me."  
He furrowed his eyebrows and slowly pulled himself out of her embrace. "Emma, there ain't a 'you and me' anymore. We broke up, remember?"  
"Well, yes," she started, panic slowly rising in her voice, "but you two broke up that night. And she just said that she. . . didn't see a reason as to. . . why she should have a relationship with you."  
He narrowed his eyes and backed away slowly. "In the first place, I don't believe you. And if that were the case, I won't accept it. I KNOW Isabelle still cares about me. And even if we were broken up, there's still no way you and I would ever get back together. Especially not after the way I've seen you operate."  
Emma sputtered and tried to explain herself to Gerry, but her attempts were drowned out in the crowded hallways as Gerry stormed away.   
  
"And the Titans take the field. . ."  
Isabelle leaned forward and snapped the radio off. It was the night of the State Championships, and the game was just about to begin. Isabelle sat in the car with her mother, as they headed towards the airport, the gloomy skies matching her mood to the tee. Her mother had called Mr. Brooke up to forewarn him of his daughter's sour mood, and so when he last spoke to her on the phone, he tried to cheer her up with a shopping trip to Rodeo Drive. When that failed miserably, he took a breath and asked her,   
"Why don't you just stay in Virginia now, and come visit me next weekend?"  
Isabelle was initially stunned. Her father never threw appointments around his schedule, family or business alike. What the heck was going on?  
"I don't understand," Isabelle had said slowly.   
"Isabelle, honey," he started out, "when you were in your coma, I saw firsthand how much Gerry cares about you. He deserves your time and attention more than I do."  
Isabelle smiled inwardly, but then groaned at the cruel irony. "Oh, well, that's great, Dad. Except now, I don't think I really want to go see him anymore. It's a long sordid story, but in short, he's a cheating son of a-"  
"ISABELLE!"   
She cringed at the shocked voices of her mother behind her and her father on the phone. "Look, Dad, I promised you I'd be there, and I will. I'll see you in a couple days."   
Now, as Isabelle hugged her mother good bye at the terminal, and made her way onto the plane, a sick feeling began to settle at the pit of her stomach. She boarded and made her way down the aisle to her seat, ignoring the disgruntled looks of the passengers she had to climb over.   
Gerry really is a good guy, isn't he? Isabelle thought as she made herself comfortable. He's kind and gentle and thoughtful. . . and pretty darn cute in that uniform of his. And a great kisser. She caught a glimpse of her dreamy face in the window next to her, and watched her pink lips sink into a deep frown. But he was cheating on me, she thought. With Emma, nonetheless. Or was he? Sunshine did tell me that Emma forced herself onto him. . . Am I making a mistake?  
Isabelle shook her head as more passengers boarded the plane. She blocked their noisiness and continued to think, It's just a football game. He'll get over it, right? No, Isabelle. It's more than that. Even though you may think it's just another game, it means the world to him. Am I making a mistake? Isabelle glanced up to see the flight attendants making last minute checks and the door of the plane prepare to close. Her eyes widened. Yes, I am making a mistake.  
She bolted from her seat and yelled, "Wait! Stop! Stop! Hold the door! Wait! Please! I have to get off!"  
  
"She's not here. She's really not here," he said dejectedly, scanning the crowds one last time.  
"Yeah, yeah. Look, Superman, I'm really sorry and everything, and I'll be more than happy to-yeah! Go Petey!-lend you an ear. . .AFTER the game. Come on, Bertier, it's STATE! We've been working our butts off to get here. Now shut up, and pay attention."  
Gerry eyed Julius. He knew his friend was right, but he still could not ignore the miserable feeling that settled in his chest. Not having Isabelle with him tonight simply crushed his spirits. However, on the field is where he took all his frustrations out, and the coaches couldn't help but notice the extra aggression in Gerry's playing that night.   
Suddenly, Gerry looked up to find Julius grabbing his arm, trying to drag him onto the field. "Let's GO, Bertier." Gerry hauled himself to where his other teammates were standing in a huddle and was surprised to find out that this was the last play. When he glanced at the scoreboard, he was surprised to see that this play ultimately determined who would win or who would lose.   
"Okay," Boone said, "nothing fancy. Just go out there and do the play I've been telling you to do. The only difference is, Bertier, I've got a hunch they're gonna pass it up to Smith, number forty-seven. Now, you don't block his sorry ass, we lose, you hear?! And if you don't-"  
"Uh, okay, that's enough, Herman," Yoast interjected. "Look, boys, Coach Boone told you what to do. Now, just do it. Play your hearts out and try your best. Now, go get 'em!"  
As Gerry took his position on the field, he felt all his depression slip away, only to be replaced by a vengeful aggression. He glared at the player in front of him, and steadily trained his eyes on him. He felt the cool, smooth dirt under his fingertips and waited for their quarterback's signal. Instantly, Gerry bolted up and sure enough, the ball found its way into the arms of his man. Smith breezed past him, but Gerry was hot on his tail, and as they neared the end zone, he poured in even more speed. Then, within a split second, he nailed Smith to the ground.  
The next few moments were a blur, but before he knew it, there was a loud eruption of cheering from the Titans' side. His teammates crowded around him as their coaches accepted their trophy, and they celebrated in the middle of the field. As he tried to grasp everything that was going on around him-his friends jumping around with triumph, people yelling and cheering, and lights flashing off from photographers-reporters edged their way into the team circle. One of them shoved a microphone in Gerry's face and asked him,  
"How does it feel to have basically won the game for your team?"  
He smiled, "Well, first of all, we all won the game-it wasn't all me. And second, it feels great to have won." He paused when the memories of Isabelle cam flooding back to him, and he added, "but not as great as I hoped it would be."  
  
As a rambunctious Titan bus pulled up into the T.C. Williams parking lot, students swarmed them, cheering and celebrating like crazy. It was well past midnight, but no one seemed ready to go to sleep. One by one, as each player descended the bus, they were enveloped into a sea of pats on the back and "Congratulations!" greetings.   
"So, what are you going to do, Bertier?" Petey asked, when he caught up with Gerry. "Want to head into town with me, Blue, and Alan?"  
Gerry shook his head. "No. Actually, I think I'm going to head home."  
"HOME?! Man, are you crazy? We just won a game we've been dreaming about since we were little, and you're going home?! No way!"  
Gerry shrugged. "I'm just not up for it, man. But, you go on and have fun. I'll catch you later."  
As the celebration continued in the parking lot, Gerry slowly walked to the other side of the campus where his car was. He slung his bag over his shoulder and trudged across the newly cut grass until he found the smaller, slightly illuminated parking lot. It was deserted, save a few other cars, but it was otherwise desolate. He approached his car and opened the front door, swinging his belongings into the backseat. He was about to climb in when   
"That was some game."  
He spun around to find Isabelle standing a few yards behind him. She stood timidly, gripping her purse with both hands. Her dark curls tumbled across her face as she glanced down, waiting for him to respond.  
"Isabelle," he murmured. "What are you doing here?"  
She took a deep breath and looked up at him. "I finally realized that my place was here. With you."  
"And California?" he questioned, furrowing his eyebrows.  
"California comes later."  
He quickly closed the gap between them and scooped her up in his arms. "But, this comes now." He set her down and kissed her deeply, pressing her body against his possessively. When they let go, he kept his arms around her waist, and she kept hers around his neck. "When did you get to the game?" he asked.  
"Well, I was on the plane when the game was just about starting. But, I managed to get there just as half time ended."  
Gerry smiled widely. "Your mom was at the game. Does she know you're here?"  
She shook her head. "Nope. When I got to the stadium, I was in such a rush, that I accidentally ended up in the opponent's side of the stadium. It's a wonder I managed to make it out alive after cheering you guys on like mad!"  
He laughed heartily. "Only you, Isabelle." He paused and then looked at her impishly. "So, did you see that great tackle I made at the end of the game?"  
Isabelle grinned as she brought him down closer to her. "Oh, yes. And don't think you'll go un-rewarded."   
  
"Hey, guys, I found his car. Maybe he's. . . in it?"  
Julius, Rev, Louie and Sunshine stopped abruptly outside of Gerry's car.   
"I dunno," Louie said, "the windows are all fogged up."  
Sunshine snickered. "Well, there's only one way fix this problem, right?" He wiped down the glass and then jumped back in surprise. "Whoa, there!"   
Gerry and Isabelle looked out of the now clear window and were suddenly startled. They both climbed out of the car flushed, disheveled, and out of breath, to face their friends.  
"Uh, hey, guys. What's up?" Isabelle asked, trying to sound casual.   
Rev patted her shoulder. "Great you could make the game. Your mom said she saw you wandering around the crowd, and when she couldn't find you herself, she enlisted us. She has something to tell you."   
She stared with confusion at the end of the parking lot where Coach Yoast and the now Ms. James were fast approaching.   
"Hey, Mom, Coach Yoast. What's going on?"  
"Yeah," Gerry chipped in, eyeing his friends, "we were kind of busy."  
Ms. James smiled brightly at her daughter and then at Yoast. "Isabelle," she started slowly, "Bill and I are engaged!" 


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15  
  
"You guys never get tired of this, do you?" Isabelle asked, her nose and ears turning crimson from the brisk, crisp cold Virginian fall. She crossed her arms and looked up at her friends.   
The Titans were due to play for the national title in two weeks, and despite the extra long, extra draining practices they had five days a week, they were all still just as fervent about the sport as ever. Despite the chilling weather, they were now all decked out in sweats, sweaters, and sweat, their bodies caked with mud and dirt, but happy grins on their faces, as they played a pick up game in a nearby park. Petey spun the football on his nimble fingertips and chuckled.  
"We never do, Isabelle, so you better get used to it."  
"Well, fellas, as much as I do love football, I love to eat, too," Julius announced. He puffed up into a stiff, upright position and resumed a menacing glare that mimicked Coach Boone's, and in a loud, huffing voice said, "I better get home for dinner, or Pa'll kick my John Brown hind parts." He exhaled and chuckled with his friends before grabbing his sweater and other belongings. "I'll see you boys later."  
"Ahem."  
Julius smiled and laughed. "Sorry, Isabelle. I'll see you later, ladies and gentlemen." He bowed to Isabelle and began walking home, and soon all of their friends had left for their warm houses as well. She buried her frozen fingers in the deep corners of her coat pockets and shivered as Gerry picked up his sweater and collected his belongings.  
"How are wedding plans going, Miss Maid of Honor?" he asked, as he watched her sit down on a bench.   
"It's total pandemonium at my house and Coach Yoast's house, especially with Mom and I moving in and all," she answered. "I can't believe they're pulling this wedding off so quickly-- and with nationals right around the corner. They must really want that honeymoon. But, wait, that can't be it. Coach refuses to go out of town before nationals. Why they're in a hurry is beyond me."  
Gerry laughed and sat down. "Just because they don't go away doesn't mean … well, I'll leave it up to that active imagination of yours," he replied, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close.   
Isabelle winced. "Gerry . . . don't touch me. No offense, it's just that you're sweaty and dirty and disgustingly smelly." She pushed him away and sat on the other end of the bench, but he began inching closer to her in all his muddy glory. "Gerry, not now-ahh!"   
He had slid down the bench and tackled her to the ground, then pulled her up with him and laughed at her. "Now I ain't the only one who's muddy."  
"You're evil, you know that?" Isabelle dusted her pants off, arching an eyebrow at him. "But, now that we're both dirty . . ." She let him circle his arms around her waist as she clasped her hands at his neck.   
He brushed his lips against hers and asked, "Since it's total pandemonium at your house, do you want to come over for supper?"  
She shook her head. "No thanks. I only came by to visit because I haven't seen you in a couple days. Where have you been?"  
"Going to practice, doing homework, looking for a decent suit that fits me to wear to the wedding, and mostly football practice. Anyway, I'm glad you stopped by-I was going to swing by your place before heading home." He looked behind her into the nearly empty parking lot only to see his own car. "Did you walk here?" She nodded. "It's freezing outside, Isabelle, and you live kinda far. What would possess you to walk here?"  
"I felt like it. It was a whole lot nicer when I started walking." She looked around her to find the sun setting as quickly as the falling leaves behind Alexandria's great trees and modest homes. She shivered again and smiled. "Besides, if I drove here you wouldn't be able to accompany me home."   
He shook his head and laughed as he took her hand and led her to his car in the small, deserted parking lot. "Come on, get in my car before you freeze and get sick. If you do, you won't be able to sit on the bleachers and watch me at nationals."   
"Oh, I wouldn't miss seeing you run in those tight white pants for anything."  
  
  
"Where is she?" Coach Yoast muttered, pacing the front of the church.   
"Quit your worrying, will you?" Coach Boone grumbled. "You've been worrying all the live long day. Everything is going to be fine."  
Gerry stood up from his spot in the front row pew where he and his friends were sitting. "He's right, Coach. Take it easy. Get your mind off the wedding for a moment."  
He watched Coach Yoast nod slowly. "Okay, I will. So, now that Isabelle's going to be my new step-daughter, I have some questions for you, Gerry."  
Coach Boone laughed heartily as Gerry rolled his eyes. "Coach," he groaned, "that's not what I meant." He turned to hear a few snickers come from behind him and found Julius, Blue, Louie, Petey, Rev, Alan, Ray, Ronnie, and a few other teammates with wicked grins on their faces.  
"Tough. So, exactly how serious are you two?" Coach Yoast continued. "Now, I mean it, Gerry, I ain't foolin' around here." Gerry squirmed uncomfortably and scratched his head.  
"Gee, Coach, well, we're thinking of eloping."  
Coach Yoast smiled and chuckled. "Clever." He opened his mouth to ask more questions when he spotted Isabelle slip through the doors of the small chapel. "Well, speak of the devil . . ."  
Gerry twisted around to find Isabelle walking briskly down the aisle, a serious expression hugging her face. He stood up to greet her, but she walked right past him to Coach Yoast.  
"Coach, Mom's getting cold feet. I don't think she's going to go through with the ceremony. I turned around to get you and when I turned back, she was leaving the chapel. I'm sorry." She, Gerry, and Coach Boone watched the color drain from his face, when Isabelle suddenly smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. She's ready and waiting, don't you worry."  
Coach Yoast heaved a sigh of relief and clutched his chest. "Don't scare me like that!"  
Isabelle laughed and turned to Gerry. "I'll see you in a little bit." He gently squeezed her hand and let her return to the front end of the church. When he watched the doors close behind her, Gerry turned to see Coach Yoast looking at him with a highly arched eyebrow, but still trying to catch his breath.  
"What?"  
Coach Yoast shrugged. "Nothing. I'm just not used to seeing you like that, gooey eyed and all. I only see you when you're serious, angry, or having fun with your friends, not like this . . . all sappy. That lovey-dovey business you've got there better not touch my field, Bertier, or you'll have hell to pay."   
"Yeah," Boone agreed. "In the form of wind sprints."  
  
Later that night, the new Mr. and Mrs. Yoast happily mingled with their guests at the small reception that night. After the hubbub of the post-wedding festivities, such as dinner, cake cutting, bouquet throwing, and spotlight dancing, the newly married couple was able to relax and enjoy their moment. Across the room, lost in a sea of guests, Gerry and Isabelle danced closely to a slow song.  
The ballroom was filled with friends and family, as they roamed around the crowded dance floor. Overhanging chandeliers and glowing candlelight from the tables dimly lit the room, giving the reception an intimate, romantic feel. Every table was decorated in white linen and white candles, while wildflower arrangements bursting with color were crammed into every crevice of the room.   
Gerry looked down at Isabelle who was intently staring off into space as he gently swayed her to the soft, slow music that was being played. She laid her head on his chest and sighed deeply, still staring off. He followed her gaze and smirked; Isabelle was staring at their joined hands, which Ryan held close to them as they danced.   
"You're not going to let go of that thing are you?" Gerry laughed, indicating to the bouquet of flowers in Isabelle's hand.   
She lifted her head up, and looked up into his twinkling eyes and couldn't help but smile widely. "Look, Gerry, you've seen how bad I am when it comes to playing sports, and this is probably the only thing I'm ever going to catch, so let me have my moment."  
He smiled down at her and pulled her closer to him. "You caught ME, didn't you?"  
Gerry laughed as Isabelle looked up at him with a strange expression on her face.   
"Oh, geez, Gerry, don't go corny on me now."   
"What can I say, I have a way with words."  
She smiled and shook her head, her curly hair bouncing back and forth. "I can't say I'll vouch for that, but, you are, however, extremely light on your feet. I never would have thought a big hulking football player like yourself would be a great dancer. You haven't stepped on me once this evening."  
"Why, thank you-"  
"Ow!"  
"Oops." 


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16  
  
Her cold breath swirled in the chilling afternoon air as the sun shone brightly, failing to radiate enough warmth to pry her sweater from her shoulders. Isabelle rubbed her hands together as she sat on her new porch swing, patiently waiting. Birds flew across the brilliantly clear sky heading south, their calls occasionally interrupting the continuous sounds of crunching leaves, whispering winds, and the creak of the porch swing as it gently swayed back and forth.  
  
She enjoyed the quiet solitude that surrounded her, a rare moment in her new life. Living with a newly married couple and new little sister never provided her a dull or peaceful moment. Her mother and Coach Yoast had finally left for their long awaited honeymoon in Hawaii, after the Titans had victoriously claimed the national title. The week between the game and their vacation departure had been full of celebrations and parties, and frankly, she was exhausted.   
  
Instantly becoming big sister was also an adjustment, but Isabelle hardly minded the little girl following her around, asking questions, and dragging her out to play. However, today the always active, always bouncy Sheryl was away at a friend's house and her new home seemed even bigger, lonelier, and more unfamiliar. Being the only one left at home, her mother had left her with the task of unpacking their belongings and storing them accordingly. It was not exactly the way she had pictured spending her Saturday.   
  
The faint rumble of a car pulling into the driveway startled Isabelle out of her thoughts and moved a delighted grin across her face. The familiar car slowly rolled over the gravel-paved path, coming to an abrupt halt before crashing into the basketball pole. Gerry smiled and waved to her as he unbuckled his seatbelt and unfolded his long limbs from his car before hopping up onto the porch.   
  
"Well, hey there, champ," she grinned. Her eyes willingly settled on his long, muscular frame and thought how above all the esteemed athletes at school, that red and white letterman jacket seemed to look its best on Gerry's shoulders.   
  
"Champ? What are you callin' me that for?" he laughed, circling his arms around her waist and drawing her closer to him. She looked awfully cold in that thin sweater of hers.  
  
"Well," she countered, "how does one greet the captain of America's best high school football team?"  
  
He leaned down and murmured, "Hmm, well, a kiss would be nice." Isabelle gladly obliged him, and then moments later pulled away, their breaths coming out in big, cloud-like puffs.   
  
"Thanks for coming over and helping me unpack," she said, leading him inside. Gerry stepped into his coach's house and was amazed at the mess of unpacked things in the living room -- he never imaged that Isabelle and her mom could acquire so much in such a short span of time.   
  
She caught his dumbfounded expression and laughed, "Don't worry about this mess. I just need your help carrying some boxes upstairs and unpacking them. Mom got a head start on her own things while I was at school, so most of the stuff I need to bring up is mine."  
  
"Did you get your own room?" he asked, taking his jacket off and hanging it over the staircase bannister. He watched her nod absentmindedly as she lugged a box from behind the couch over to where he was standing.  
  
"It's right next to Sheryl's room." She smiled and glanced at the box at their feet. "Now, come on, Gerry, chop, chop. We don't have all day."  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"So, I suppose having a big, strong boyfriend IS handy," Isabelle mused, standing at her doorway with Gerry at her back. She surveyed the piles of boxes in her new room-boxes filled with all her things from California, plus all her things from her first home in Alexandria.  
  
"Glad you think so highly of me," he laughed. He stepped into her room and pulled a box from the top of a pile, setting it down and peaking inside. "Wow. I didn't know you still had stuffed animals. Aren't you a little old for teddy bears?"  
  
Isabelle grabbed a bear out of his hands and held it close. "No," she said defiantly. "And for your information, they're decorative."  
  
"What about that one on your bed? Ain't it kind of old and worn out?"  
  
"Just help me unpack!"  
  
Gerry laughed and pulled another box from the pile onto the floor as Isabelle threw her animals onto her bed and tossed the box off to the side. She looked over at Gerry who was once again prowling through her belongings in an attempt to help her unpack, until he carried a box over to her window. He set it down and stared out into the vast field that was the backyard, marveling at the golden tones of the tall grassland as it stretched out into the open. The warm hues of each leaf culminated into a rich, autumn scene of swaying trees and falling leaves. He could practically hear the ground crunch and the fall breeze kiss his cheeks when Isabelle moved next to him.   
  
"Nice view, huh?"  
  
"Very nice," he agreed. "In fact, too nice to waste inside."   
  
She glanced back and forth between his face and the landscape before them -- fall had never looked this beautiful in California. Grabbing his hand, she led him out of her room and dragged him down the stairs as he confusedly protested.   
  
"You're right," she explained, throwing him his jacket and skipping out the back door. "It's way too nice outside to be up in my stuffy room unpacking."  
  
Gerry shook his head and pulled on his warm jacket, all the while murmuring, "I will never understand you, Isabelle. But, that's what makes you all the more exciting." He stepped out the back door to find her treading the long blades of grass, staring out into the fields where a small forest lurked.   
  
"Don't you wish everyday was like this?" she called out, stopping to wait for him. "Lazy and beautiful and peaceful? I mean, this is what it's all about, don't you think?"  
  
He took her hand in his and looked down at her inquisitively. "What what's all about?"  
  
"How do I say this without sounding cliché?" she murmured, leading him to the massive oak tree near the edge of the yard. "Everyday, we run around; always in a hurry. We've got classes to go to, homework to get done, chores that need to be tended, papers that have to be written, and just a mindless, endless list of things to do day after day after day. But, when you think about it and when you look back, you're never going to remember what Mr. Wesley said third hour, or math problem number twelve, or how fast you were able to do the dishes, or the essay on the societal impact of religion -- but, I'll bet you anything that you'll remember today.   
  
"You'll be able to look back in a few years and remember which tree you stood under with your gorgeous girlfriend, how bright the sun was when you came outside, and how much you wanted to be out here because it was such a nice day."  
  
Gerry sat down and leaned against the tree trunk, pulling Isabelle down and wrapping his arms around her. She leaned back against him and smiled. "Do I sound completely off my rocker? I've been cooped up inside that house with all the windows closed, inhaling cleanser fumes, so I wouldn't be surprised if I sounded like an idiot."   
  
He laughed aloud, "I have to admit that what you said was unusually intense and out of the blue, but it made sense." He paused. "It's been a hell of a ride these past few months, hasn't it?"  
  
She snorted. "Yeah, that's an understatement. It's been high and low and everything in between, but I'd have to say it worked out perfectly in the end."  
  
"And we still have the rest of the year to look forward to."   
  
She settled comfortably in his arms and looked around her, before spying an old, worn out football a few yards away. "This is where it all began," she murmured to him. "All those months ago, right here in Bill's backyard."  
  
"Now, that's a day I know I won't forget," he said, as she turned around to face him. "I remember it very clearly -- it was warm out, you were wearing this cute little skirt but still insisted on playing around, and you kept bragging about how good you were on offense and how you always scored and won, and despite all your boasting, we had an amazing connection."  
  
"Yeah, especially when you landed on top of me in a tackle. Trust me, we definitely connected," she added, grimacing at the memory's pain.   
  
He chuckled and kissed her forehead, drawing her to him in the sunset's growing chill. "I know I'll always remember that day because that was the first time I met you. And I know I'll never forget today because it'll be the first time I'll tell you that…well, Isabelle Brooke, I love you."   
  
Stunned and surprised, Isabelle stared at him, her mouth gaping open. "Huh?" she squeaked.   
  
"I'm completely in love with you," he repeated, grinning in amusement. "And I'm serious here -- even the guys can tell, and they're ragging on me about it."  
  
Isabelle smiled and leaned her forehead on his, murmuring, "Well, rag as they may, this is fantastic news, because Gerry Bertier, I love you, too."  
  
He grinned widely and pulled her closer to him in a deep, all-consuming kiss, that left them breathless and dazed. But, before Isabelle moved in to kiss him again and said softly, "I told you I played good offense."   
  
  
  
T H E E N D 


End file.
